Beast Wars Transferred
by hatashikitty
Summary: Basically,it's a spoof of "Indian in the Cupboard," but instead of generic toys, I've written it with Beast Wars toys. This is a self-insert story, the girl in it is me about seven years ago. Enjoy.
1. The Beginning

Beast Wars Transferred: The Beginning

Beast Wars Transferred: The Beginning  
By Emilou

_Dear Diary,_

In the past week, I have been totally rethinking my life. I somehow felt as if I needed to grown up a little now that I'm a Sophomore in High School. I spend most of my free time watching cartoons on TV when mom lets me, or I'm up in my room playing with my toys. I started feeling like a little child since some of my old friends moved away and I found a new group. My new friends all seem to be more mature than me even though I'm a year older than all of them. I thought about letting them come over for a sleep over, but when I imagined them seeing all of my toys and cartoon stuff I felt embarrassed. That was then I decided to get rid of some of my old things.

_  
Most of them I gave to my younger brother and sister, my action figures to my brother and my cute animal toys to my sister. Of course I didn't give my favorites away. Those I can hide in the drawer. But it made me feel good about giving them something. They were really excited and I spent some time playing with them. I finally felt like an older teenager; I felt like all the fifteen years I have earned._

_  
However, after all of my hard work changing my image, giving up my childhood and everything, was ruined when I went to Wal-Mart with my mom today. I just had to walk through the toy department. That cursed toy department. There I found an action figure of my favorite character in one of the shows I watch. I couldn't help it. He was the only one left on the shelf and his box was kind of torn and broken. His rat face seemed to look at me like, "Please save me before a nose-picker takes me." _

_  
My pockets must have been very inflammable because I had to get him. But he's just one toy. Just one. I can buy just one. I'm not going to start collecting Beast War toys like some Star Wars nerd. No, I'm going to end at that. _

_  
. . . . ._

_  
But I want more._

Dear Diary,

Today was my Birthday. It was okay. My friends all gave me nice presents. And I got three new Beast Wars toys. Yeah, I know I said I would quit. But Rattrap was so much fun I just had to get more. Mom and Dad gave me Transmetal Megatron, and Optimus Primal, and my little sister gave me Transmetal Waspinator (even though Waspinator doesn't get a Transmetal form in the cartoon). They're so cool. I can't wait to open them. Yes, I waited until I told you what happened. 

_  
But one thing that kind of bothered me was my Grandmother's present. She gave me a dumb night stand. The thing is really old, faded and scratched up. It looks like she found it in a garage sale or junk yard. I thought it would be cool to put stuff in it, since it has a drawer at the top. But it's locked, and it didn't even come with a key. What was my Grandmother thinking? Why does she send me useless crap? Well, at least I can put stuff on top of it, at least until one of the legs break off._

Emi tore open the packages and twisted off the restraints of the action figures with heightened excitement, humming to herself some nameless tune she made up. After that, she went over each part of the packages that had words, reading everything out loud. Only then did she allow herself to try transforming the mini plastic figures.  
First she did Megatron, laughing and giggling at his purple T-rex form, and then about how retarded the figure looked in half-transformation. Then she opened Optimus Primal's box, taking time to play with his mace weapons before putting him in his robot form. She seemed to have forgot Waspinator as she planned out a mock battle between the two opposing leaders, changing her voice to try to fit the characters from the show.  
It was only when Emi's mother told her to get ready for bed that she remembered the Waspinator toy that lay beside her forgotten. She picked it up and talked to it. "Wazzzzpinator wazzzz forgotten. Wazzzzpinator want attention too," she said to the toy in a buzzy voice. She chuckled to herself as she picked the three up. "I'll transform you after I get ready for bed."

A half hour later, she jumped on her bed with the robotic-like wasp.

"Can I transform one?" Chiera asked, jumping on Emi's bed knees first. "Let me transform one."

Even Emi tried to be a good sister sometimes, but this wasn't one of those times. She didn't like other people touching and playing with stuff that she valued. And for some reason, she felt very attached to her Beast Wars toys, even if she only had them for a few hours.

"No," she said flatly, and started moving Waspinator's parts without looking at the instructions. After a couple minutes of struggling with the toy, she hadn't been able to move a single part.

"What's the matter with this thing? Why doesn't anything budge?" She looked over the toy a few times, and then noticed a glittering coming from the bug's mouth. Her nimble fingers reached into the pinchers, and pulled out a small bronze key. "Wha?" Emi shouted in surprise wondering how such a strange thing came with her toy.

"What's that?" Chiera asked, reaching for it.

Emi's pulled her hand away. "I'm looking at it." She inspected it further. Was it her imagination, or did the key grow? She wondered if she was starting to get tired, but she could have sworn the key grew twice it's size.

"What's the key to? Is it to Grandma's present?" Chiera asked, crawling closer.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Emi snapped at her younger sister.

"I was, but the lights are on."

"You can still go to sleep. Now go."

The seven-year-old stomped to her bed and glared at her sister.

But Emi was too busy to notice. Chiera's words hit her. The key was the right size for the drawer. And it had the same bronze look as the lock did. Maybe it would work. Emi slid off her bed and sat by the night stand. To her amazement, the key fit. Suddenly her imagination went haywire. What if there was something in the drawer? What if it was something valuable? Or something magical? She opened the drawer with anticipation, and then her hopes dropped. All she found was the smell of old wood and dust. In disgust, she tried to close the drawer with a slam, but the old metal wouldn't allow it to move two inches without force. After a few times opening and closing it a few times, it became more moveable.

"I want those lights out in five minutes," a motherly voice shouted from some part of the house.

"Fine!" Emi shouted back, looking a little disgusted at her dictatored bedtime. She looked down at the Waspinator toy with longing, and then put him into the drawer. Next to it, she place a toy rat of the same make next to the bug, smiling happily. She felt that her transmetal rattrap had been looking very lonely on the top of her dresser the last few weeks. But now he had a friend.

She transformed Optimus Primal and Megatron back to their beast forms and put them on top of the night stand in fierce positions. Finally, before she turned out the lights, she locked the drawer with Waspinator and Rattrap inside. She didn't know why, nobody would steal them. But what was the point of having a locked on something if you don't use it.

The darkness had engulfed him. He didn't know what he was doing right before he woke up into the darkness, or where he was, but he had the distinct impression he was no longer in the right place. It was a much more dryer place, and by the echo from the sound of his breathing told him he was in a very small space, like a tiny cave. But it smelled of old wood and something else. Something synthetic. His metallic claws tested the surface to find the texture very smooth, and polished.

"Hello?" he tested the air softly, sniffing around for a familiar sent. "Is anyone there?"  
He heard a gulp and some movement close by.

"Optimus? Cheetor?" he tested again hopefully.

His energon pump skipped a beat when he heard a high buzzing noise. Not good.

"Rattrap, maximize," he said softly. Nothing happened. "Rattrap, maximize," he said again, his voice starting to go higher. Still, his body didn't respond. Mentally, he checked his inner systems. They seemed to be all on-line and working. It was something else that didn't sit well with his diodes. His entire body just didn't seem to be right. It was like he was still himself, but not really. He had had this feeling before, right after the blast that almost killed Optimus Primal and transformed his body into a transmetal. It was strange. Did something like that happened again? But then why couldn't he get out of beast mode.

"Wazzpinator can't see. Where is Wazzpinator?" the mumbling voice of the bug Predacon reverberated off the walls. "Wazzpinator will blast hizz way out. Wazzpinator, terrorizz,"

Rattrap backed away from the sound of the Predicon until he hit resistance. If he couldn't transform, he was going to be as dead as a bot in a scrapper.

There was the sound of irritated buzzing. "Wazzpinator said 'terrorizz'. Why doezzn't Wazzpinator transform?" There was the sound of six legs clicking against wood, and then a large bang from metal hitting wood hard. "Ow," moaned the noisy Pred as he hit into the wood a few more times.

Coffin. For some reason, that word popped into Rattrap's mind. Was that where they were? Were they left there to die? What happened right before this? What was going on? Rattrap didn't know, but it sounded like he was in the same boat as his enemy. He decided to take a gamble. He must be crazy for even thinking about getting help from a Pred.

"Alright, you spazzdic insectoid. We're both trapped in here, so we should work together and. . ."

"Is that ratbot? What is Maxzzzimal doing here?" The wasp sounded frightened and angry at the same time.

"Hoh boy," Rattrap side. Of all the Predacons to get stuck with. . . "Oh. . jus. . .I don't know. Maybe I like to wander around blind in the dark."

There was a pause. "Ratbot haz weird tastezzz."

"Oy," Rattrap groaned. "Listen ya stupid Pred. I don' like bein' in here with you just as much as you like me. But it looks like we're goin' haveta deal with it for now, so we might as well work together. Ya got that?"

There was some buzzing, and Wazzpinator started mumbling to himself inaudibly. "Wazzpinator has nothing to lozze," he said in a resigned voice.

"Dido," Rattrap snapped, thinking that getting Waspinator's cooperation was a lot easier than he thought it would be. "So, do you know how we got in here?"

"Wazzpinator hazn't a clue."

"Okay. . .so. . um. . .let's try a figure out where here is then. I'm going to look in this direction. You go in that one."

"Okay."

Rattrap started sniffing around, trying to see if there was something else there other than wood. He started to follow the wall he ran into earlier and started following it. As he did, he thought, _This place isn't natural. But what is it? Is it another weird device that the aliens left for us to find? And for what purpose? _Just as he was contemplating the different negative ways that he could die from wood, something ran into him from behind.

"WHA?!"

"Get out of Wazzpinator's way!"

"I told you to go in that direction. Not this one."

"Wazzpinator can't see. What direction?"

Rattrap nerves were already frazzled enough by the scare of not seeing and being with a known enemy, that he didn't see any point in keeping his temper now. "THAT way, ya bug."

"Well, maybe if ratbot was nicer to Wazzpinator, Wazzpinator would go in that way."  
Rattrap didn't waste any time then to unleash his artillery of insults and threats that would have sent the most war-hardened Decepticon plugging his audios in fear. Wazzpinator countered it by talking to himself, and described Rattrap's more detestable characteristics with much detail in his rambling way. The two of them were so engrossed in their hateful spat that they didn't noticed that their voices grew louder to that of shouting.

A loud thump that rattled the surface below them shut their mouths quickly, and Wazzpinator grapped the Maximal with four of his six legs for security. They heard some mumbling, and each grew hopeful that members of their own team was coming to rescue them. The ground underneath them started to move, and light flooded into the darkness as if a small sun just popped before them. It only took a moment for their optics to adjust to the light and they registered the head of some organic creature that dwarfed them by gigantic proportions. Simultaneously, the two of them shouted out of fear of the mountain sized creature, that they believed was going to eat them.

The creature, surprised by their reaction, screamed in a surprisingly high voice. Soon after the ground moved rapidly underneath them, there was a loud bang and they were plunged back into darkness.

"Oh my crap, oh my crap, oh my crap, oh my crap," Emilou chanted in a nervous voice as she paced in a circle by her bed. Only minutes before, she had heard some muffled voices which she had mistaken for her radio alarm clock. Routinely, she slapped the snooze button of the alarm so she could sleep for ten minutes more. But to her frustration, that didn't work. With fuzzy eyes, she tried to examine the clock in the dark, and saw it was only five in the morning, and there were still muffled voices coming from somewhere in her room. After turning on her bedroom lights, she learned that the noise was coming from her nightstand drawer. Wanting to solve this mystery to get back to bed, she turned on a lamp, and quickly turned the key. Immediately, the noise stopped. She opened the drawer slowly to see what had caused the strange noise, and was puzzled when she only found her two toys that she knew to be in there. Nothing strange.

Then the two toys shouted in fright.

Reacting to the surprising noise and the moving action figures, she had screamed herself and shut the door as if it held a portal to the river Styx. Now that had left her in a state of nervous energy where she tried to run through all the possibilities of why her toys were alive. She didn't understand the how and why, but she had no doubt that her action figures could move by themselves. Either that or she had still be half-asleep when she opened the drawer. Either way, she had to know.

As a girl that had lived with her nose in fantasy books since she could read, she was open to all illogical ideas, and the idea of her toys being alive wasn't all too strange to her. In fact she found it kind of exciting, much like in the Velveteen Rabbit or Toy Story. But the problem was whether the toys acted just like the characters they were modeled after, or if they were possessed by evil spirits. She was determined to open the drawer, but as a precaution she grabbed the nearest object that could be used as a weapon. A pen.

Kneeling next to the drawer, she prepared herself to open her destiny. As a secondary precaution, she put on her glasses that she rarely wore, since her face would be at the right level for eye-poking. Carefully, she pulled at the handle to slowly slide the drawer open. The front of the drawer was completely empty, and so were the spots where the toys had occupied. Emilou had to open the draw all the way open to see the two animal like figures cowering in the back. Rattrap had his back end against the wall, and Waspinator was trying to hide his face in a corner as much as he could.

Emilou and Rattrap starred at each other for a while, neither one moving or saying anything. It was the human that quickly spouted a question that surprised both of them.

"Are you evil?"

"Wha?" Rattrap was confused at his first contact with something so alien.

"Are you an evil toy? You know, possessed with a demonic spirit that will kill me in my sleep like some Chucky wanna-be. Or were you programed with combat software, and you have a sick desire that tells you to destroy everything in your path."

If Rattrap didn't know any better, it sounded as if this organic was describing Predicons to a T. Had the species of this creature ran into Predacons before, and that's why it was posed to attack him with that primitive weapon.

"No, no, no, NO," he shouted, holding up his rodent front paws in a sign of surrender and peace. "I'm from a planet called Cybertron. Me and my companions are called Maximals. We believe in. . .um. . .ya know, peace and all that stuff."

Emilou was relieved. It sounded like Rattrap. By some rare phenomenon the spark of this cartoon character had ben spirited to her action figure.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought that you were going to be like the dolls in those scary stories that my uncle used to tell me. Unless you're going to pretend to be a good toy, and then stab me my back when I'm not looking. Am I over thinking this?" she said almost to herself.

"Ya think? Look, couldn't you put down the weapon at least," Rattrap requested, smiling a little. But then he thought back at what the creatures had said. "Toy?"

Emilou looked at the pen, and then realized how threatening she must have looked. She laughed nervously and put it down. "Sorry. I guess I was more afraid of you guys than I should have been."

"What do you mean by 'toy'?" Rattrap asked again.

Emilou turned her eyes upward and tried to think of a way to put it delicately. "Um, well. . .ya see. It's like this. You are an action figure. . . that came to life."

"Huh?" The vocabulary was beyond Rattrap's comprehension.

"Here, let me show you," Emilou said, and she disappeared from the rat's view. When she reappeared, she held a large piece of cardboard with plastic still clinging to it. "See, you came in this. I bought you at Wal-mart. See, there's a picture of you. And on the back, there's your status and the instructions to transform you."

Rattrap's processor was on overdrive running through this fiction-like reality that he was living in. Or was it a dream? Could he have been sucked up into some sort of wormhole that stole him into a different universe where the people bought beings for fun.

"Of course, there wasn't anything on here that says about toy moving on it's own or batteries included," Emilou said as a joke. "Whoa, your endurance sucks. Are you getting all of this?"

"Slow down, kid. I'm not understanding this," Rattrap said, wishing that he had his robot hands so he could rub his forehead. He could feel pressure starting to build up behind his eyes. "Let's start at some point I can understand. Where are we?"

"You're in my bedroom," she said in a know-it-all voice as she pushed her glasses further up her bridge. "I put you in my nightstand drawer last night, and then when I woke up you were alive. To put it bluntly, the body you're in now, it should be like a statue."

Rattrap was stunned. Everything was going all wrong. Where was he really? Where were the other Maximals. "I. . .I had . . .There are other Maximals. They're names are Cheetor and Optimus Primal and Rinox and. . ."

"Oh, I have Optimus Primal up here," Emilou said, hoping that would relax the agitated Maximal. "Can I pick you up?"

Rattrap didn't say anything. He was a little weary at being "picked up" by this alien. However, if he wanted to refuse, he didn't get a chance to say. Before he could react, two large hands came at him and lifted him up. It was a strange sensation, to be lifted up into the air so quickly and being supported from below. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. "Whoa."

Emilou chuckled. Not that she found his fear funny, but he sounded so much like the television show that she couldn't help but laugh. It was a like a fun dream of hers come true. But she didn't contemplate that for long, as she realized that the Maximal was heavier than the toy she put into the drawer.

"How did you get so heavy?" she asked the rat, who was too tense to answer. She examined the body of her action figure, and hypothesized that it was no longer made out of plastic. It, or rather he, was made out of a light metal, one that wasn't too heavy. The metal made him more sturdy, and she could feel some heat radiating from the body. It was kind of cool. But she didn't dwell on the physical change of her toy too long, and placed Rattrap on top of the nightstand next to the blue gorilla.

"Optimus!" Rattrap said gleefully. "Oh, am I glad to see you." He skittered to the toy with joy, feeling a sense of security rushing over him like warm air. But that feeling died quickly when his leader didn't respond or move. "Optimus?"

"I guess they didn't change over night," Emilou said, her face peering at the purple headed T-rex that Rattrap didn't see. When he did, he jumped behind Optimus Primal quickly, and peered around one of the short legs. "Hmmmm, I wonder if it has something to do with the drawer. Let's see." In a burst of spontaneousness, she picked up the Predacon leader and was going to put him in the drawer.

The sight of his leader must have been too much for him, for at that moment, Waspinator shot out of the drawer, his two pairs of wings beating rapidly. He rushed to the other side of the room, and zigzagged along the wall trying to look for an exit.

"Cool," Emilou said as she saw the black and green Predacon hover in a corner, acting just like a large wasp looking for it's nest. She could barely see the red wings fanning quicker than a hummingbird's.

"That ain't the word for it," Rattrap said, moving to the edge of the wooden pedestal he was on. "That's a Predacon, which isn't good."

"I know what he is," Emilou said, almost like a snap. "I know what you guys are. I've watched the show."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain later. But I should catch him before he wakes up my sister."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rattrap tried to warn the organic creature trying to explain the evil nature of Predacons, but she has walked out of hearing range. Either that or she was ignoring him, which he suspected to be more true. "This ain't gonna be pretty," he mumbled to himself.

However, he underestimated the human. Emilou, finding a shirt on the floor that either she or her sister forgot to put away, and threw it across the panicking insect. The cloth hovered in air for a while, and then dropped to the pink carpet. It sat there a while, every now and then it would flutter with a buzzing. Emilou picked it up, carefully suppressing the entity inside so not to hurt it, yet not yielding too much to let it out.

"Wazzzpinator's gonna be slagged," the wasp cried out in mournful despair. He twitched every now and then, but with the hands pressing all around him, there was nothing he could do.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he heard the voice of the creature say to him. Even though he didn't entirely believe the promise, the voice soothed him a little. He stopped struggling.

"Waspinator, I promise that I'm not going to hurt you," Emilou continued to speak to the Predacon in a voice she reserved for stray cats. "So there's nothing to be afraid of. If you promise not to fly away, I'll let you go. Will you fly away?"

There was a pause for a reply from the covered Waspinator. "Wazzpinator won't get slagged?"

"No, no slagging."

"Wazzpinator won't fly away."

Emilou, hesitating since she wondered how good that promise will be, slowly unwrapped the black and green wasp, and released her grip on it. To her relief, Waspinator stayed on her palms and didn't make any indication of flying away.

"Yay," she said happily to herself, feeling pride at taming the Predacon. She went back to her bed, and placed him on top of the nightstand.

Rattrap's rodent mouth was hanging open in surprise. Now he had seen everything.

"Okay, guys. Maybe I didn't explain everything clear enough. Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

Instead of trying to explain the phenomenon, Emilou first began with watching the show "Beast Wars" on TV, giving them some detailed summaries of a few episodes to prove that she was telling the truth. She then went on to explain what action figures were, showing them the Optimus and Megatron figures that were definitely made of plastic and not metal, and that they weren't the leaders of the two factions. She then went on telling them the exactly what happened before she went to bed and ending on finding the two of them moving in her nightstand drawer.

"So, what do you think?" Emilou asked tentatively, gritting her teeth to brace for whatever will come next.

"What do I think?" Rattrap asked, his voice cracking a little. "What do I think? I'm stuck in some sort of weird dimension where I'm the size of a lugnut. I'm who knows on what planet. . ."

"Earth."

". . .with no idea where the slag my team is. . ."

"They're on Earth too."

". . .or Cybertron. . ."

"I told you, you're from a TV show."

". . .with some crazy organic lifeform. . ."

"I'm human!"

". . .who is completely out of her mind."

"Hey! Hey, let's be civil here."

"And to top it off, I can't transform."

Emilou just held her forehead in her hand as if she had a headache. "Look, I know it's a little too much, but that's how it is. Accept it," she told him.

"Accept it! How am I suppose to accept it when it sounds so ludicrous?"

"What more do you want from me?" Emilou asked in frustration. "I can't change what's happened."

"Well. . .uh. . .what if you're lyin'?"

"How would you explain Waspinator? He's a transmetal now," Emilou pointed out.  
Waspinator had stayed quiet all this time, either out of confusion or that he tuned everything out. But at the sound of his name, he looked up. "Waspinator transmetal?"

"Yeah, here let me show you," Emilou said, and jumped off her bed. She rummaged through some debris in her room and came up with a square mirror. She held it up to the insect, who stepped back it surprise. "That's you now, Waspinator. So pretty."

Waspinator moved closer, tilting his head to one side, and then the other. Then, using one of his flimsy legs, he tapped the surface to make sure it was real. Finally convinced of the integrity of the reflection, he studied himself with interest. He looked through golden eyes at his black body, green wings and red legs. It was definitely a different Waspinator. "Wazzpinator look good."

Emilou laughed at that, and then turned to Rattrap. "Well."

"Eh. . .ju. . .That doesn't prove anything," he said in frustration. "He could have changed just like I did."

Emilou thought. "I have a few Beast Wars episodes on tape. And some of the original Transformers, so that should be proof enough, although we can't watch them until morning. And what about your leader. I bet if we put him and Megatron into the drawer, they'll come to life too. And that should prove that. . ."

Suddenly, a noise that Emilou was all too familiar with came to her ears. It was soft and muffled, but out of adolescent necessity, she was able to pick it up quickly. She dropped the Megatron toy she held back down, and closed the nightstand drawer.

"You two, don't move and don't make a sound," she told them in a warning voice. With that, she turned off her small lamp, and flung the blankets of her bed over her head and curled up tightly. At the last second, she sat up and took her glasses off and placed them next to Optimus Primal.

Rattrap, confused at this sudden change of action in the large human, was about to ask a question. But he stopped when he heard the sound of footsteps outside the walls of the room. There was something coming. He stayed quiet.

Rattrap could hear it coming closer; the loud thrumming of it's footsteps vibrated through the wooden nightstand to his trembling rodent feet. He heard Waspinator gulp, but the two of them stayed still. The footsteps stopped and a crack of vertical light widened, and in the light there stood a shadowy figure much like Emilou. A bright light turned on.

"Emi, get up. Time to go to school. Chiera, hurry up or you'll miss the bus."

Emilou, rolled in bed so that her face pushed into her pillow. She moaned and pulled her blankets over her head just as she had every morning. Even though she was wide-eyed awake, she had to play the part for her to pass off her hoax. She wasn't one to skip school for selfish reasons, and she rarely lied to her mother about anything. So she rationalized that she had saved enough points for this one small sin.

Emilou moaned again, and curled up. Just as she did, she braced her lungs for the racking cough she could fake with conviction. It hurt to do it since she had to make it convincing. Her cough sounded deep and congestive as if mucus was mucking up her lungs. After a few breathfuls of fake coughing that left her gasping, she sniffed through her nose roughly, hoping it sounded like it was stuffy. Under the blanket, she rubbed her nose quickly until it burned, making the soft skin red.

"Are you okay? Did you catch a cold?"

"Huh?" Emilou mumbled through her nose, lifting her head a little as if she just barely woke up.

"Are you sick, Emilou?"

Emilou, keeping herself wrapped up in her blankets, lifted her head higher and answered, "I don't feel very good."

"You don't sound good."

Emilou felt a weight on her bed, and a hand slip over her forehead. The hand was cold, so she figured her mother would think she had a fever. She also hoped that her mother didn't notice her heart beating faster as she stared at the two metalic transformers on her nightstand. Even though they didn't change size or color, one studied look at Rattrap and Waspinator anyone would know that they weren't made out of plastic. She hoped that her mother didn't look too hard at the toys.

"Well, I'll go call in to your school and tell them that you'll be gone. You go back to sleep."

"Okay, mom," Emilou said in a fatigued and stuffy voice, and laid back down. When her mother was gone, she smiled and winked at Rattrap, telling him it'll be okay, but that they still need to be still. She waited, listening to the sounds of her little sister slowly getting up and dressing.

It took Chiera thirty minutes to get ready for the day, and just as she was leaving, she muttered a distinguished, "Faker," before turning out the light and closing the door.  
With the light out, it was lighter than it was before. The sun was slowly starting to peak over the high horizon and warm the land. Emilou could see everything in her room easy enough. She sat up and spoke to her two guests.

"We still can't talk yet. We have to wait until my mom leaves for work. But after that, we'll be okay. It'll take about an hour, so just be careful. I'm going back to sleep," Emilou explained, but didn't let the two Beast Wars characters speak before she laid back down. Within a few minutes, the surprise of the night had worn off and sleep came to her.

Rattrap was familiar to sleep. He and the other maximals had often taken "catnaps" as Cheetor called them often to conserve energy. However, he wasn't very knowledgeable of carbon-based lifeform's need to sleep. Confused, he did as he was told. He and Waspinator waited in awkward silence. He spent his time looking out the window. He now understood that he was inside some sort of structure for the organics, and they were some distance away from the ground. The land wasn't like that of the jungle and forests that he and his comrades were exploring during the Beast Wars, but it was cleared and tilled so that it was ready for planting. There were fences, roads and other buildings. Within some of the fences, he saw large four-footed mammals that he had seen before, but didn't know the names of. From his sensors, he was able to guess that the creatures were bigger than Emilou by a large margin. Occasionally, he saw large vehicles that he recognized as the alter-forms of some of his ancestors, the Autobots. He had seen pictures of the antiques when he was still on Cybertron, and wasn't impressed. But from his place on the nightstand and how small he was, he had a new respect for the cars and trucks that puttered around on the pavement.

However, there wasn't anything he saw that disproved Emilou's story. In fact, it affirmed it. This was Earth, the Earth about the same age the Autobots woke from their millenniums long sleep. So he knew the who and where, but it was the how that puzzled him.

Rattrap could measure the time from how quickly the sun moved across the sky. At least he could if the window was facing East, but alas they were facing West. After an educated guess at how long he had been starring out the window, he looked to Emilou and waited, thinking that she would just pop right up as soon as an hour had passed like a well tuned eggtimer. However, Emilou didn't stir, her gentle breathing went on and on and on.

After all that had happened to him, Rattrap figured he was due for some answers, or at least something to break the quiet.

"PST, Emilou. An hour's up," he reported. At first he was going to yell at her like he would anyone. But then he remembered she was bigger than a Decepticon seeker to him, and decided not to annoy her too much. "PSSSSSST. Emilou."

Emilou moaned, and slapped her alarmclock that was on the opposite side of her bed. She then rolled over onto her stomach, and snuggled up to her pillow.

Rattrap again had the urge to shout at her, but remembered the warning that Emilou gave him. What if the other human heard him? What would happen then? Was that other human a superior? Would he be in danger if that human found out he was there? After thinking it over, Rattrap came up with another tact.

Emilou woke up with a start after having a nightmare of hoards of mice and rats crawling all around her. When she woke up, she noticed only one thing. The rat that was on her face, hanging onto her long bangs.

"An hour's up, sister," Rattrap muttered in his annoyed voice.

Emilou didn't comprehend the words, or the fact that a rat was talking to her. With a high pitched scream, she grabbed Rattrap and threw him. She didn't seem that afraid as she watched the red and silver body sailing through the air, the whip-like tail flailing in a circle as the rodent shouted in fright. It wasn't until the body landed in a large pile of dirty laundry that Emilou was hit by reality, and remembered what she had done.

"I'm sorry," she cried out as she untangled the mechanical rat from a pair of shorts, trying to ignore the profanity that was being spouted at her. "Are you okay?"

"Whaddaya think?" Rattrap snapped at her. "It's a good thing I wasn't damaged. Now can ya put me down?"

"Okay, just chill," Emilou said nervously, meaning no disrespect for the maximal's short temper. She thought of her toys as something precious, and would never throw her Beast Wars action figures across the room like that; so she was surprise and relieved that Rattrap wasn't hurt. "I'm so sorry," she said again as she set the rat on the corner of her bed.

"Now that we're awake, can I please get some answers?" Rattrap requested in his sardonic and mocking voice.

"Wow, that sounds so like you," Emilou said in awe, and pointed at him with a smile. "And I'll be willing to answer anymore questions during breakfast. So I'm going to pick you up again, and take you down to the kitchen."

"Oh, boy. More carrying me around," Rattrap muttered. He didn't like the feeling of being so vulnerable and small, but allowed himself to be transported by the human's hands.

"You too, Waspinator. You want a ride, or are you going to follow?" Emilou asked, gesturing at the Predacon.

"Wazzpinator will follow," the insect answered, and beat his wings until he was hovering. He liked this human. She didn't want to slag him and she could throw the ratbot a very far distance which was amusing.

"Then we're off."

When Emilou walked out of the door, Rattrap realized the structure was complied of many small (if you could call them small) rooms, much like the maximal ship. They exited into a larger room, which impressed the rat even more. Of course when you're the size of a regular rodent, everything is impressive. But it wasn't until they started descending to the lower level of the shelter that Rattrap became speechless. The stairs were build along the wall of a large foyer. The immense space of the chamber was incredible. It reminded Rattrap of the great war halls that his ancestors, the Autobots, had used. He could guess that even the colossal Omega Supreme could fit in it, that is if Rattrap was his normal size. But if he was his original size, he would be a foot and some inches taller than Emilou, and then the room wouldn't be so heart stopping big.  
After that, they went through one other room, until they came to the "kitchen." Emilou left Rattrap on a wooden platform she called a "table" although it could have been a cliff for him. He watched as she went through cupboards the size of old oak trees and hills for her breakfast.

Emilou came back with a bowl, spoon, a gallon of milk, and a box of Frosted Flakes. She poured her food, took a bite, and said, "So, what else do I have to answer?"

Rattrap felt weary. So much had happened, and there was so much unexplainable things. "Let's start at the beginning again," Rattrap said, thinking that he needed to process the information once more before it could be fully understood. But this time he was prepared with answers.

Emilou went back through her story, during which she was interrupted by Rattrap with an inquiry here and there. A few times, Waspinator quipped in with a comment or question, but mainly he kept quiet. He had conditioned himself not to question things. Answers usually meant getting slagged. It took two bowls of the sugary cereal before the questions stopped, and Rattrap learned that Emilou was just as confused as he was, and he accept the situation as it was. Now that panic had worn off, time for a plan. A plan, a plan. He needed a plan.

How could he think of a plan when he was stuck in this beast mode. He needed to be a robot once again. He voiced his frustration out loud, clenching his rodent paws into fists.  
Emilou, head perched in her palm and elbow on the table, looked down at him with a look of observation. "Ya know, I think I can help ya there," she said, and without asking for permission, she picked him up.

"Whoa, whaddya doin'?" Rattrap shouted as he felt himself being turned upside down.  
"Yeah, I think I can transform you. You've changed. I mean, the toy that used to be you changed. It's a little more complicated, but I can see where the seems are up close." With that, she started using her thin nimble fingers to start the process she learned from playing with her toy so much. It was easy, like trying to work out a puzzle. A twist there, a pull here, swivel this part up and push a part in there. Soon, she was so involved in the process, Emilou didn't seem to hear the small rat's protests.

"No, it's okay. I can just. . .whoa, stop that. Hey, leave that alone. Don't do that. That doesn't go there. Ow, no that's attached, thank you very much. Don't touch that. Hey, leggo. Stop, that's as far as that will go."

After a few minutes of this, Emilou stopped. As she had gone further into the transformation, the steps became more complicated and she couldn't remember how one step went. She looked down at Rattrap who had the lower half of the robot, but the upper body of the rat. "Shoot, I can't remember the rest."

"Lucky me," Rattrap muttered, trying to look at his deformed body. As much as he loved being prodded and pulled on by the human, he did not want to stay as he was. "Well, keep going. I'm not gonna stay like this." He glared at the Predacon as he heard the wasp giggling at his predicament.

"I gotta get the instructions," Emilou told him, and bolted from her chair to run upstairs.  
And Rattrap found another thing he found unpleasant about being small. He didn't like being swung from Emilou's hand as she ran up the stairs. Even being inflicted by motion sickness, Rattrap was vaguely aware of Waspinator following back up into Emilou's room.

It didn't take long for Emilou to find the instructions to transforming Rattrap, and soon was involved in the procedure. Rattrap went back to gripping about being manhandled.  
"There you go," Emilou said happily, placing the now robot form Rattrap on the carpet. "How was that?"

Rattrap padded himself down for an inspection, and shivered. "I feel so. . . violated." But despite the man handling he had been through, he was a robot again. And it felt good.

Emilou frowned. "Your welcome."

Waspinator, who was watching all of this with interest, flew forward. He held out his six wasp legs to Emilou and cried out, "Wazzpinator next!"

"Okay!"

"Wait, wait, wait a minute!" Rattrap shouted at the human, waving his arms as if they were flags. "He's a Pred. You can't do that." He almost added, "to me."

"Aw, he's not going to hurt anyone," Emilou said, waving Rattrap off. She grabbed hold of Waspinator and presented the insecticon to Rattrap. "Look at this face. Does this look like the face of a killer."

Waspinator tilted his head in one side and smiled the best he could with his strange mouth. But if he was trying to be cute, Rattrap wasn't buying it. And he then realized that he was the most unfortunate soul in the entire galaxy when fate dropped him into the lap of the stupidest human on the planet.

"Fine, do what you want. Doom us all, if that will make you happy," Rattrap muttered to himself. But Emilou didn't even hear and she toyed around with Waspinator. But Rattrap wasn't going to allow himself to be defenseless. He reached behind him to get his blastor out of subspace to protect himself, but his digits grasped nothing. "Hey!"

"What's up?" Emilou asked amid her concentration.

"My gun. It's gone."

"You didn't come with a gun," Emilou explained.

"What am I gonna fight with?" Rattrap whined.

Emilou, halfway through with Waspinator, looked to one side of her and then the other. She spotted something and picked it up. "You have this," Emilou told him happily, and placed in his hand his rat's tail, which was suppose to be a sword. However, the tail was more or less too crooked and limp to be any kind of weapon.

"Aw, man," Rattrap moaned, and slapped his head.

"And, your done," Emilou pronounced happily, placing the Predacon, newly transformed, on the bed next to Rattrap.

Waspinator looked at himself up and down, and "Ooooh"ed and "Ahhhh"ed at his new body.

"And I didn't hear any complaints out of him," Emilou told Rattrap snobbishly, and lifting her nose up a little.

"Well, excuse me."

"Oh, and here's your weapon." Emilou picked up a red, long barreled blaster and gave it to Waspinator. "Since they seem to be so important to you guys."

Rattrap was dumbfounded. "Why'd you give it to him, ya dumb broad!"

Emilou waved him off. "Eh, he can't hurt you with that," she said without concern in her voice.

Waspinator inspected his weapon, and decided to test the theory. He turned the barrel on Rattrap.

"Wahhhhhhh," Rattrap yelled and shielded himself with his arms.

Waspinator pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Waspinator pulled again, and again, and once more with his eyes looking down the gun. Still nothing. He watched Rattrap peek out of his cringing to look at him and then relaxed. Waspinator tossed the useless object away.

"See, I was right," Emilou gloated. "Considering that that gun was a plastic stick a few hours ago, I figured that it wasn't dangerous. Besides, the universe doesn't hate me that much. . .yet."

Rattrap sighed. "Okay, now that I'm back to being me, I can think now." He started pacing up and down as if in deep thought.

Emilou looked at Waspinator. Waspinator looked at Emilou.

"Waspinator want to be in Beast Mode."

"Okay," Emilou said and picked him up. This was fun.

"Ahhhh, I can't do this," Rattrap half-yelled in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm not the one to come up with this things. I always leave the big plans up to Rinox or the Boss Monkey to think of."

Emilou finished transforming Waspinator once more, and tossed him up in the air so he would fly away. "Well then, let's ask him."

"How?"

"Well duh. Through the same way you got here," she said, picking up the two figurines of the gorilla and T-rex. "And besides, it would be nice to see if my drawer theory is correct."

"Wait, you're putting in Megatron, too?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" Emilou asked, hesitating.

Sure he did. Rattrap had a lot of problems with that. But that day had been so surreal and topsy turvy, that he felt that he was wearing down trying to convince this human the errors of her ways. And besides, he was tired of being proven wrong. "Oh, never mind."  
Emilou shrugged, and placed the two figures in the drawer. Her heart started to beat faster as she looked for the key to the lock, found it in her bed covers, and preceded to lock the drawer. Then she waited with her ear next to the wood for any sign of life. And waited. And waited.

"Anything?" Rattrap asked, walking across the bed until he was next to the nightstand.  
Emilou shook her head. "I don't hear anything. Maybe it takes a while for whatever magic or phenomenon to work."

"How long were we in there before we came to life?" Rattrap asked, as he studied the nightstand.

"Um, like five hours. Or more. It was for a long time," Emilou told him the estimation. "So maybe they need to be in there a couple of hours."

Rattrap looked a little disappointed. This situation wouldn't be so stressful for him if he had some company. He gauged the distance from the bed to the nightstand, and jumped onto the wooden top.

A muffled voice came from the drawer.

Emilou's heart jumped excitedly. She twisted the key with her shaking fingers and slowly slid the drawer open. And there they were, the two toys having become animated. She could see them move, the way a living thing still moves when they are trying to stay still. However, neither one saw the enormous teenager looking at them.

"Megatron!"

"Primal!"

The purple T-Rex charged. The blue gorilla raised his massive arms to accept the challenge.

Emilou intercepted the fight. She swooped her hands down and picked up Optimus Primal.

Megatron's large head rammed into the side of the drawer.

"Hee hee, silly Megatron."

"What in the name of Primus?" the leader of the Maximals gasped, his optics taking in the sight.

Emilou for a while became speechless. It seemed to her to be a very awkward situation to pick up someone who doesn't know you, but you kind of know them. What do you say in this position?

"Yo," Emilou told the blue ape with a nod of her head. _Oh yeah, very articulate, Emilou,_ she thought to herself.

Optimus Primal, who also thought that this was a very peculiar situation of being picked up by a giant and in a very casual way, said hello to him. "Um. . .hello," Optimus Primal said politely. "Thank you for your help."

"No prob," Emilou told him with a bob of her head. "I think you two know each other," she said and set Optimus Primal next to Rattrap. They looked at each other, one filled with curiosity and the other with relief.

"Rattrap, would you mind telling me what has happened?" Optimus Primal asked his companion while looking around the large room.

"Eh, it's a long story boss monkey," Rattrap sighed, and shrugged. "And I'm not even sure what the heck it going on."

"By the inferno!" A deep voice shouted from deep in the drawer. "What is that thing?"  
Rattrap and Megatron backed up from the edge tentatively.

"I think he's referring to me," Emilou said, looking into the drawer with curiosity. Some part of her wanted to stick her finger in there and poke him, but she decided against it.  
"We're going to have to do something about him," Optimus Primal growled, and looked at Rattrap.

"Don't look at me. This is her mess. She's the one who brought him," Rattrap tattled and pointed at the large human.

"Thanks for the support," Emilou muttered. "Don't worry. He's not going to do anything, aren't ya Megatron."

"Megatron terrorize," the T-Rex shouted. He, however, looked baffled when nothing happened. "Megatron terrorize. Megatron terrorize. What is wrong?"

"Hey, don't strain anything," Emilou told him. "Now let me get you out of there, and I'll explain everything. . .again." She reached her hands in to pick her up.

Megatron, his wrath already fueled, snapped at her with his large maw.

Emilou snatched her hands back, and glared at the lizard robot. She shook his finger at him. "Bad Megatron. Do you need a time out?"

"Time out?" Optimus Primal repeated confused.

At that time, Waspinator wanted a better look, and hovered over Emilou's head.  
"Waspinator, there you are. Quickly, attack this monster and get me out of here," Megatron commanded, pointing with his tiny dinosaur forelegs.

"Okay, that's it mister," Emilou said angrily, and slammed the drawer closed. "And you're not coming out until you think about what you've done."

Optimus Primal looked up at the strange organic creature, and leaned down to Rattrap to whisper, "Is she an ally?"

"I wish I knew," Rattrap said with a slow shake of his head.

Roars and thundering came within the drawer, and the wood shook as they heard Megatron's rage ringing through the wood.

"Whew, Megatron soundz mad," Waspinator pointed out the obvious, and he buzzed closer to the drawer to listen better.

"But I do know she isn't an enemy," Rattrap said, with an awkward smile.

"That's just Prime," Optimus Primal said.

"Wow, I love that line," Emilou said, leaning her face forward. "I mean, I'm a big fan."

"Uh, have we met before," Optimus Primal looking up at her skeptically, but still being polite.

Emilou smiled nervously. "Not exactly. Ya see, it's part of that long story."

"Then I'd like to hear it," Optimus said, and folded his arms.

Emilou put her hands together like she was going to pray. "Can we wait until the trouble maker cools down. I don't want to say it twice more." Emilou noticed that Optimus Primal gave her a look so similar to the ones Rattrap kept giving her. She suddenly had a premonition that she would be getting much more of those in the future.

And wait they did, for five minutes as the temper tamper stormed on. The time was passed with Emilou cleaning up her room the best she could, Waspinator following and exploring the scene, and Rattrap explaining to Optimus Primal who and what Emilou was.

"Human?" Optimus Primal repeated, looking at Emilou up and down. "But why is she so big?"

"She's not big, we're just small," Rattrap told him.

"We shrunk?"

"That's the only explanation I can think of, because there's no getting around the fact, but we're on Earth."

"Earth. Oh, what kind of trouble did we land into now?" Optimus Primal moaned, rubbing his blue skin.

"That ain't the weird part, Optimus," Rattrap warned.

At that point, everyone noticed the silence emanating from the nightstand. The roars of an angry T-rex had gone out like a candle flame. Emilou walked over with Waspinator tailing her, and knelt down by the nightstand. She looked at the two Maximals before slowly opening the drawer cautiously.

Standing in the middle of the box stood Megatron, his large lizard head looking up much like an expectant animal.

Emilou looked down with unamusement. "Well."

Megatron cleared his throat. He seemed very nervous and unsure about what he was about to say. "I must apologize for my hasty actions, but you must understand my situation. At the sight of such a magnificent being as yourself, I was startled and reacted in a very uncivil and uncouth way. I am very ashamed of myself."

Rattrap made gagging noises.

"Yes, I am sure you have heard of many egregious lies that the Maximals have spouted about. . ."

"Okay, I accept the apology, but let's cut the crap. Do you want out or not?" Emilou interrupted.

"Yes," Megatron said.

Emilou put her hands down on the drawer bottom instead of trying to pick Megatron up. She waited until the toy sized Megatron walked onto her hands to lift him out. Like Rattrap, she noticed that both Megatron and Optimus Primal were heavier than the toys she stuck in the drawer. At this point she wondered if somehow the drawer either switched the toys for these living things, or just changed the bodies and brought them to life. It was something she would have to think about later, business called. She set Megatron on the nightstand top, and warned him.

"No fighting."

"I wouldn't think of it, yeeessss," Megatron promised.

Emilou watched him for a while, deciding it was her advantage that Megatron not know that she had undeniable knowledge of his deceitful maliciousness. Now that she had the leaders of good and evil at her attention, she started her story one more time. By this time, she was so practiced with her explanation, that everything sounded more or less logical and more sure of herself. The words came freely, and thanks to Rattrap's questions she was able to cover all her bases and described things better to the reanimated machines.

That still didn't change the shock of the situation.

"No, that can't be possible," Megatron shouted once Emilou stopped talking. "I am Megatron, leader of the Predacons. I've tricked the Cybertronian council dozens of time, escaped from the clutches of the Maximals and have a plan for the conquest of the universe, and you tell me that I've been transported into the body of some child's toy."

"Get used to it, Buzz Lightyear," Emilou told him with crossed arms.

Megatron became speechless.

Optimus Primal took the time to jump in. "So, you think that what brought us hear is your nightstand by some magical powers?" The question sounded skeptical.

"Hey, it obviously ain't some technical problem," Emilou told him.

Optimus Primal nodded in understanding. He also noticed Emilou was starting to sound snappish, a sign she was tired. From his observation, she was still a child. Plus she was organic and didn't have the energy reserves that machines had. And he didn't know how long she had been at this with Rattrap and Waspinator.

"Then I guess it must be the nightstand," Optimus Primal thought out loud. "Or. . .Emilou, you mentioned a key."

Emilou looked around, and then found the key still in the lock. "Yeah, this key. It was kind of weird where it came from."

"Weird? How?" Optimus Primal inquired.

"Well, my Grandmother gave me the nightstand for my birthday, but it didn't come with the key. I also got Waspinator for my birthday as well, and when I opened him from the package, the key was. . .in his mouth," Emilou said, her voice sounding unsure as if the whole thing had been a dream. "As I said, it was really weird."

Waspinator, after hearing his name, buzzed closer. "Waspinator, birthday present? Is Waspinator good birthday present?"

"Yeah, you were. . .although I was hoping for Silverbolt," Emilou mumbled the last bit under her breath. "Do you think it was actually the key that did it?"

Primal nodded unsurely. "Well, how you got the key is a little strange, so it seems to fit. Perhaps the key in itself is some sort of transporter. If that's the case, perhaps it can send us back."

"Hey, why didn't I think of that," Rattrap pipped up, moving forward. "That means we can go home."

"We don't know that Rattrap," Optimus Primal told him realistically. "How many times have you said that and it actually happened?"

"Hey, I'm suppose to be the pessimistic one," Rattrap joked, and looked up at Emilou. "We can at least try it out."

"I agree with the Maximal scum," Megatron added, dropping any form of politeness since Emilou's explanation. He was strictly business now. "There is no harm in trying. The worst that could happen is that we would still be stuck here, yes."

"You guys want to go now?" Emilou asked in her softest voice. "But I only got to talk to you for a few hours." A mild depression filled her chest.

Rattrap heard the sorrow in the girl's voice and was surprised. They had only been there a short time. Did their small visit impact her that much? She did know a lot about them already, so their encounter was something to the sort of meeting a hero that you've only heard about. When Rattrap thought of it that way, he felt a little sorry that he wasn't a little nicer, that he didn't try to let the kid do something other than answer his never-ending questions.

"Yes, we have to go. We don't belong here," Optimus said extending his ape hand. "Thank you for all your help."

Emilou took the small hand with two fingers and shook it. "Well then, everyone in." She opened the drawer slowly, and watched as Waspinator flew in and Megatron followed with a small jump. Optimus didn't follow until he looked to Rattrap.

"Eh, go ahead. I'll catch up," Rattrap told the blue ape with a wave of his arm.

Optimus Primal had some idea what was going through his underling's mind, but he really didn't want to go ahead with only two Predacons as company. But he remembered the way Emilou could easily snatch him up if there was danger, and jumped in.

"Hey, kid. Uh. . .thanks for. . .uh. . .ya know, everything ya did," Rattrap told the girl in an embarrassed way. "You're actually a pretty good kid."

"Thanks," Emilou said with a small smile. "Good luck on the war. Hope you win."

Rattrap smiled his rattish smile. "Hey, thanks. I hope we do too." With that, Rattrap hopped down.

"I hope you don't," Megatron muttered once the rat joined them.

Rattrap glared at the malevolent dinosaur.

"Ready everyone?" Emilou asked, her hand on the drawer.

They all answered more or less, some more enthusiastic than others. Waspinator waved at her and she waved back.

"Here goes," she told them, and pushed the drawer back in it's place. With a quick breath, she turned the brass key in the clock, and held her breath. She waited, her ears at attention to catch any noise. There was nothing. Should she wait to see if it worked? She wondered. She sat there for a few minutes, her muscles tense. After she watched the clock tick by ten minutes, she turned the key again. Slowly she opened the drawer. Peeking inside, she noticed nothing moved. She moaned.

Waspinator's wings twitched.

"Waspinator?"

Megatron's head shot up. "Oh for Primus's sake."

"It didn't work?"

"Did you turn the key?"

"Yes, I turned the key. I left you in there for ten minutes."

"Try it again, human."

"That's Miss human to you, Barney."

"What?"

"Okay, here we go."

She did the same thing, only this time she took the key out of the lock. But she didn't have to wait to see if it worked, because within the wood she could hear the reverberations of an argument ensuing between Rattrap and Megatron. The insults were inaudible, but the voices were recognizable. She opened the drawer again.

"Try it again."

"It won't work," Emilou told Megatron. "If it won't work the first time, it's not gonna the second time."

"I said try it again."

"You try it."

Megatron growled. With a power that Emilou hadn't seen in any of her toys brought to life, Megatron lept onto the thin board that made up the front of the drawer. Optimus Primal and Rattrap sprang into action to stop the thundering Predacon, but they wouldn't reach him in time. With a quick snap of his jaws, Megatron bit Emilou's hand that had the key in it.

Emilou, startled, screamed as the jaws latched onto her fingers. She dropped the key and slapped the mini T-rex, who let go as the pain hit him and he flew to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Rattrap asked worriedly as he tried climbing up on the drawer lid. Optimus Primal, who was in a more limber body, easily hefted himself up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Emilou said as she observed her hand. "Just a few punctures. Matches my kitty scratches," she said in a shaky voice, and tried to laugh as she show them her hands. There was hardly any blood. "Good thing you guys are toy sized."

Megatron, shocked by the blow, was slowly getting up. He was growling in a dizzy sort of way.

However, Emilou wasn't going to allow him to attack again. With nimble fingers, she pinched the lizard robot's tail between two fingers and lifted him in the air where he couldn't do any damage.

Megatron roared with a trembling roar, his tiny forelegs waving uselessly in the air.

"I think you need another time out," Emilou said in a mock-motherly tone. She found a small blue basket nearby, spilled it's contents on the floor and quickly slipped the angry T-rex under it before setting some textbooks on top to prevent the Predicon leader from escaping.

"You seem. . .very calm in this kind of situation," Optimus Primal commented as he looked from Megatron to Emilou.

Emilou seemed a little embarassed. "Well, I guess it's because I used to you guys. I've been watching the show for over a year now, so I know you pretty well," she told them. "I guess that might sound a little weird."

"No, I know how you feel," Optimus Primal told her. "I've read the old stories about the great war. Especially about the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime. I feel like I know him and the Earth very well from the records of the Autobot and the humans."

"Awww, that's cute," Emilou said. "You're a fanboy."

Optimus Primal gave her a weird look.

The rat robot sidled up to his leader. "Uh, boss monkey. What do we do now? We can't get home, right?"

"It appears so," Primal told his conrade. "For now, at least. Perhaps the answer is right before us, and we'll be home before the sun sets. But we need to take into account that we may be stuck here for a long time."

"That's what I was afraid of," Rattrap moaned.

"Would that be so bad?" Emilou asked them, her face getting closer. "I promise to help anyway I can, but until then, is it so bad for you to relax a little. You guys have been fighting for a while now; you deserve a little vacation. Is it so bad that this could be your chance to just stop for a while?"

Optimus Primal rubbed his chin much like a gorilla in a zoo. "I guess not, if it weren't for the fact that Megatron is here," he said looking down at the still raging Predacon. "No, as long as he is here, we can't relax. This is a fight between Maximals and Predacons; we can't ask innocent outsiders to risk there lives."

"But your toys," Emilou told him slowly, her look saying that there was no way her life was in danger.

"Nevertheless, this is our fight. The battlefield is different, but the war does continue on. Megatron won't rest until he is offline or the victor. No, we can't relax. The Beast Wars has been transfered to here, and so we must fight."

Emilou broke away from the moving moment to a childish complaining note. "Oh, no you don't. There is no way I'm going to let you turn my room into a warzone," she told him, her face looking angry. "I have a hard enough time trying to keep it clean with a little sister living here."

Optimus Primal and Rattrap, war hardened veterans, cringed as the girl chewed them out.

"And if you think I'm just going to watch as you guys tear each other apart. Do you know how much each of you cost? I spent a week's worth of chore money on Rattrap alone. Do you want to earn that money for a replacement? I don't think so. You can just forget about that, mister. Not to mention, what do you think Megatron's going to be able to do? Did you forget that you can't transform, much less use any of your weapons. You're not even made out of real metal. If I stepped on you, you'd totally feel it. You're made out of whatever the crap this is drawer turned you into. And another thing. . ."

Rattrap, muttering under his breath, was able to whisper to Optimus Prime over Emilou's continual ranting, "I'm still trying to figure out if she's an ally or not."


	2. Temper, Traitors and Treaties

Beast Wars Transferred: Tempers, Traitors and Treaties

Beast Wars Transferred: Tempers, Traitors and Treaties  
By Emilou

The four reanimated action figures stayed in silence as they were left alone in the large bedroom with rose pink carpet. Each of them felt the shock and disappointment of not being able to return to their own place in the universe, and they each coped with it in a different way. One sat his six thin legs on a pile of books while he buzzed his wings every now in then, his mind completely content with the situation since he neither had to fight or dodge anything that would slag him. Two of them scouted the area with robot and primate legs over the carpet which they found thick and hard to maneuver in. They were both silent, but their thoughts were going through every possibility of how they arrived in this strange situation and how to get back. The final member of this small group of live toys paced back and forth in his prison that was a blue plastic basket turned over. He growled and mumbled threats and curses under his gigantic maw, his small forearms tapping together as best they could.

The four were left to their thoughts as the human who had been responsible for this situation had left them for a while. She told them she needed to take a shower (whatever that was), and would show them the rest of the house. She had been very cheerful, helpful and dealt with the aggressive Megatron in a very calm and firm way. She didn't seem to be afraid of him at all, which Optimus Primal and Rattrap felt very concerned about. Megatron was a very devious and manipulating Predacon, and should be someone that Emilou should fear. But she was constantly reassuring them that she wasn't going to fall for any of the T-rex's tricks. Only Waspinator seemed to be the only bot happy to believe her words and obey her promptly. He proved surprisingly loyal to her when only a few minutes after the human left, Megatron gave the wasp Predacon orders.

"Waspinator, now's our chance. Yes. Get me out of this despicable enclosure."

Waspinator hovered near the basket, almost face to face with Megatron. "Hmmmmm. No."

Megatron had growled. "I ordered you to get me out of here this instance."

"Wazzpinator doezn't have to take orderz from Megatron anymore," Waspinator told the T-rex bot in a stiff voice.

"I am your leader. Obey me!"

"Emibot defeated Megatron. Emibot iz Predacon leader now," Waspinator had buzzed. "Wazzpinator takez orderz from Emibot now, and Emibot says not to let Megatron out." Waspinator blew a raspberry at Megatron and flew away.

"Oh, if I get my hands on you, you traitorous insect, I'll. . ."

During this time, the Maximals had left Megatron alone. They figured he was harmless even if he did escape, he was trapped in his beast mode. Out of little else to do, they scouted out Emilou's room. This was what their original plan when they took the Axelon into space.

It was a very big room, larger than a valley to them. The walls and ceiling were entirely white save for some posters, pictures and wall scrolls that were hung up. The carpet was a rose pink, and it made it hard for the robots to tread through it. It almost felt like they were wading through sponges. Optimus Primal, in his beast mode, found it a lot easier to walk in. He went to a large wooden piece of furniture, that Emilou had taken some clothes out of the drawers, and started to climb it. It was the tallest thing in the room, and therefore had the best vantage spot to take everything in.

Rattrap, however, already had an aerial view of the room from Emilou's hands, and didn't feel like following his leader. Instead, he went across the room near the door where Emilou's sister had been sleeping that morning. He had seen something over in that direction that interested him. Emilou seem to avoid the other half of the room, and Rattrap wondered if human's were territorial. The walk took sometime since he was only about seven inches tall, but he made it. It wasn't that impressive. Or as Tigatron would say, "The grass wasn't as green on the other side." It was certainly messier. Clothing and strangely shaped creatures that seemed to be inanimate was littered all over. At some points it was almost like a jungle where he had to push things out of the way. Finally he arrived to the place he wanted to.

Even though he had not been outside of Emilou's home, he imagined the miniature structure to be similar to the house's exterior just with more walls. He made this connection because the insides of the shelter was very similar to Emilou's home with rooms, kitchen, stairs and bedrooms. He took a step inside, and found it made of a strange substance. Optimus Primal, before he came to life, was made of the same stuff and Emilou had told him it was plastic.

"Now this feel a little better," Rattrap said to himself as he climbed the stairs that was his size. He explored each of the rooms, trying out the few beds. They were hard and straight, but for his robot form it wasn't that bad.

After a while, he went back to the lower lever to check that out. It was a lot bigger and the rooms larger as well. The stairs had been centered in the middle, so the rooms circled all the way around them. As Rattrap checked out the back rooms, he saw a figure standing near a wall. The figure looked just like Emilou with some differences.

"Whoa," he jumped, startled. He didn't expect any living things to be in the small house. He was about to apologize and leave when he noticed the figure didn't move. Then he wondered if there was even any humans that was his size. "Hello? Hey there," he shouted, waving his arms. The figure didn't move. Rattrap moved over to the figure and touched it. The figure fell, and laid on the floor in the same position it had when it was standing. "Plastic? Is everything here plastic?"

"Hey, guys. I'm back."

Rattrap turned around and ran to the front of the small house. He saw that Emilou was back, in different clothes and a towel drying out her hair. She spotted Optimus Primal on the dresser and picked him up.

"Where's Rattrap?"

"I'm over here," he shouted, jumping and waving his arms.

"What are you doing in my sister's doll house?" she asked and she picked him up delicately.

"Oh, just lookin'."

"Find anything you like?" she asked with a smile.

"Whoa, now. It's not like I'm lookin' for a place to hang my chrome for a while. I just wanted to see."

Emilou took the small robot figure back to Megatron's prison, sitting with her legs cross. She set the two Maximals down, and looked from them to the wasp robot hovering nearby and then to the trapped T-rex.

"So, any ideas?" she asked with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Nada," Rattrap said with a shake of his head. Optimus and Waspinator said the same.

"Perhaps if we had a better look at the object that transported us here, yes," Megatron said, tapping his dinosaurian claws together.

"Are you going to be a good boy from now on?" Emilou said in a voice one uses on four-year old.

"Uh, yes. I'll be on my best behavior," Megatron said in his most charming voice, giving her a toothy smile.

"Okay then," Emilou agreed, and lifted the basket and books away from the T-Rex.

Megatron sighed with relief at being released. "Now, you will transform me."

"No."

"I demand that you transform me to my robot mode," Megatron insisted.

"You have lost your transformation privileges, mister. Maybe tomorrow, if you're good," Emilou told him while shaking a finger.

"But for me to observe the object, I need to be in. . ."

"Whaaaaaaaaaa," Emilou cried out, tilting her head back as if she were in pain. "Somebody call the Whaaaaaaambulence, because you're breakin' my heart."

Megatron knew when he was being mocked, and glared at the human. "Fine. Fortunately for me, I still have my flight mode." He spread his legs apart to brace himself for the liftoff, and waited. But nothing happened.

"Here, let me help," Emilou said, reaching for the Predacon.

Rattrap moaned, but didn't say anything. More than anything, he wished this human girl wasn't so helpful, especially to Preds.

Emilou used both her hands to lift up two circular panels that were connected to Megatron's thighs that was composed of his flight mode. As soon as she did this, the fans on them started to rotating, faster and faster. But nothing else happened.

"Wow, that kind of ruined the moment," Emilou said, looking at the T-rex.

"Cursed body. Why won't the jets turn on?" Megatron shouted.

Emilou picked him up. "Probably because you're just a toy," she told his face. Then she noticed that her hair billowed a little. "Oh, that's nice," she said as she moved Megatron around her face so she could feel the air all around.

"Stop that! Put me down!" Megatron ordered, trying to slap the girl's hands. "I am not an air-condition unit!"

Emilou put him down with a smile. She lowered his flight panels. "You can just fly by flapping these," she told him, and flapped the fans for himself, laughing at the look Megatron gave her.

Megatron growled at her, and pulled himself violently away from her, his tail whipping around. He charged at her hands, his jaws chomping and snapping.

Lucky for her, Emilou withdrew them quickly, and then extended one out to pop Megatron over the head with the tips of her fingers. "Bad, Megatron. I guess you didn't learn your lesson well enough."

"Noooooooo!" Megatron shouted as the blue basket enclosed him once more.

"And you're not coming out for a whole hour. That'll give you enough time to think about what you did," Emilou told him.

At that point, both Rattrap and Optimus Primal couldn't help them selves. The Maximal leader chuckled at his nemisis's prediction and Rattrap fully laughed in the bot's face.

"When I get out of here, there will be much to pay for, yes," Megatron mutter, his crafty brain already plotting dark schemes.

"Yeah, you an' what army?" Rattrap asked in a cocky voice. "Waspinator already said he ain't followin' you anymore. He'll only listen to Emilou now."

"Really, Waspinator.?" Emilou said, looking at the insect robot that hovered nearby.

At the sound of his name, Waspinator flew higher until they were face to face. "Zzz, Yezz, Wazpinator not follow Megatron. Megatron defeated by Emibot. Emibot Predacon leader now. Wazpinator only follow Emibot."

"Oh, that's so cute. He calls me Emibot," Emilou said, her face full of joy. But then it changed to pure shock. "Predacon leader?"

Waspinator nodded.

Rattrap took a step closer. "He's always had a few bolts loose."

Optimus quipped in with his own joke. "If Emilou is the Predacon leader, this may be the first time in history that they would become the Maximal's allies."

Emilou looked down at the Maximal leader with her hands on her hips. "What do you mean 'if'? It looks like I AM the Predacon leader. So there." And she stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're going to be the Predacon leader? What are ya sayin'?" Rattrap yelled up at her.

"It doesn't sound like a bad idea," Emilou rationalized.

"But the Predacon's are the bad guys," Rattrap argued.

Emilou shrugged. "So. It's not like I have to follow a certain Predacon code. Hey, Waspinator, is there a Predacon code?"

"Wazpinator not know."

"Well, there ought to be. In fact, let's go make one," Emilou told her minion, and stood up.

"Wait, what the. . ." Rattra trailed off, knowing there was no stopping her. He waited as Emilou went through a bag and brought out a pencil and a notebook, then returned. "You can't be serious becoming the Predacon leader."

"I can't help it if I was chosen to lead," Emilou said in a false mysterious voice. "And besides, Predacon is just a name. It's only bad if people commit crimes under that name."

Optimus Primal scratched his chin. "You know, she makes a lot of sense. I think it's a good idea."

"Okay, fine. Everyone just don't agree with me, ever," Rattrap moaned, and walked off a ways to clear his head.

"Great, glad you support me. Now, come, Waspinator. We have work to do in the name of the Mighty Empire of the Predacons," Emilou said in a haughty voice, and whisked herself to her bed. "You're not invited, Megatron, for your insubordination."

"Good," Megatron mopped from his plastic cell. He turned his back to the girl.

Rattrap turned to Optimus Primal, rubbing his head like he had a headache. "So, what now, boss monkey? Do we have a plan, or should we just wait for the next spaceship to Cybertron?"

Optimus Primal ignored his comrade's sarcasm. "Well, it looks like we're stuck here for a few long time. Nothing on Cybertron could have prepared me for this kind of situation. I guess, the first thing we should do is find a base."

"A base? Is that the best you could come up with?" Rattrap asked, a tinge of frustration showing in his voice. Then he calmed down a bit. "Okay, it's a start. And I think I have the exact thing we need."

Minutes later, Rattrap was back to what Emilou called a dollhouse with Optimus Primal looking around with doubt.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's really. . .pink."

"Yeah, but besides that."

Optimus took another look around. "It seems sound enough to be a base, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, it doesn't belong to us. It doesn't even belong to Emilou, so I don't think it would be possible. We'll need to find somewhere else for our base."

Rattrap didn't say anything, but he was a little disappointed. On his first impression, he wasn't too impressed with the dollhouse, but after a while it grew on him. Yeah, it was kind of cutesy, but for some reason it felt a little like home. It wasn't like the base, but more personal in some way. He wished that they could have used it for the base.

* * *

Time passed while Emilou wrote her code. It wouldn't have taken as long, but every few minutes she would get up for some reason or another. Once she needed a dictionary, and a few times they heard a ringing coming from beyond her bedroom and she needed to answer the phone. She even called a lunch break, saying she was hungry. It was well after an hour before she was completely finished with her Predacon code. She had written the rough draft in her notebook and then took her time to write a nicer version of the code on blank paper in her best handwriting.

"Okay, everyone. This is now the Predacon code. So listen up," she told the four robots.

"But we're not Predacons," Rattrap whispered to Optimus Primal, and received an elbow in his ribs.

"Number one: I am the Predacon Queen. Therefore my word is law. To disobey means treason, and I deal with traitors severely. Number two: Nobody is allow to slag or hurt Waspinator in any way."

Waspinator buzzed happily at the rule. He had never felt so important as this.

"Number three: There will be no fighting with Maximals or other Predacons, unless I say so."

"Well, that sounds good, but how are you going to get Grumpyjaws over there to agree?" Rattrap inquired pointing his thumb toward the prison.

"I don't know," Emilou said, looking up from her rules. "Maybe make him promise or sign his name or something like that."

"Like a treaty," Optimus Primal helped out, although sounding skeptical.

"Yeah, like a treaty," Emilou said. Then she stopped and looked up at the ceiling. "Oh crap, I just remembered. I have an assignment in history due tomorrow, and I haven't finished it." She dropped her Predacon code, and looked around frantically. Spotting what she wanted, she removed one of the bigger books that was on Megatron's prison.

"Um, excuse me. My time is up, yes?" Megatron asked politely, holding onto the basket's weaves.

"Oh, yeah. It's been about an hour," Emilou said and knocked the basket over, more interested in her homework than the T-rex. "There you go."

"Freedom," Megatron shouted, and ran off. As he ran, he spoke to himself as sometimes he does. "I'm not staying in this psychotic place any longer, no. No more will I allow myself to be set inside that infernal basket to repent of my actions, yes."

As he raced to the door, he could see a long stretched of the huge canyon like white walls beyond the pink-carpeted room, and knew he could find an exit out of the shelter. It didn't matter where he was or what kind of dimension he was in. He wasn't going to allow such simple obstacles get in the way of his destiny. He would rule no matter where he ended up.

"Hold it, mister," Emilou shouted and grabbed the T-rex's tail and stopped him.

"Ahhhhhhh," Megatron moaned. "What now?"

"You're not allowed to leave the room by yourself," the human told him, holding up the Predicon code. "See, it's in the code. And we have to follow the code. It's Number Five."

"What's number four?" Rattrap asked, wondering how many rules this girl could think up.

"Um. . .Only one transformation per robot a day," Emilou said as she looked at her paper. "I ain't a machine, ya know."

"This is ridiculous. Even when I'm not being confined in that horrible blue box, I'm still a prisoner," Megatron yelled. "And they called me a tyrant."

"Hey, this isn't for my benefit, believe me," Emilou told him, her hands on her hips. "This is to protect you. My mom will have your spark on a spit if you wreck her house. Not to mention what could happen to you if the wrong people knew I had action figures that had been brought to life through a piece of crap night stand my grandmother gave me for my birthday."

"Emilou is right, Megatron," Optimus Primal agreed. "This isn't our world. Who knows how the humans will react to us. It might be best if we lay low."

"Lay low? I think not, Primal. I'm leaving, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Hey, did you forget about me?" Emilou asked him, putting her face closer to the floor so she could look him in the eye. "I'm your leader, and you have to do what I say."

Megatron growled at her, his head low to the ground. Without thinking twice about Emilou's size advantage, he charged her face, snapping at her nose.

Emilou guess this would happen, and moved her head up out of the way. In a flash, she brought her flat palm down on the dinosaur's head in discipline. Megatron only seemed stunned for a few seconds before he was up and snapping at her hands again. It seemed this time he wasn't going without a fight. In offense to Megatron's protests, Emilou kept slapping him from the side, her quick reflexes refined from playing with kitties with sharp claws. After a few minutes of this, Megatron began to slow down and Emilou was able to reach over him and grab his tail. Megatron flailed about in anger, yelling and roaring until he gave into his mistreatment and slumped in Emilou's grasp.

"You have a temper problem, my little subject," Emilou stated, looking at him with a worried look. "I can't have you running around with so much pent up negative energy."

Megatron just blinked menacingly at her.

"It's no use, Emilou. You might as well put him in that prison permanently," Rattrap called up at her. "But if you ask me, there's more than one way to keep the dino quiet," he added darkly.

Emilou thought about that with a look of deep thought. "You know, Rattrap. You're right. Obviously confinement isn't working on Megatron."

"Finally, she's listening to me," Rattrap said, smiling and relaxing.

"Megatron," Emilou addressed the ex-Predacon leader. "We're going to have to find other outlets for you to express yourself."

"Wha?" both Optimus and Rattrap yelled in surprise.

It didn't take long for Emilou to gather supplies for Megatron's new rehabilitating exercises, even with one hand. Once ready, she went to her bed, and sat the T-rex down in from of a thin paperback book with simple outlined pictures. She showed a mass of colored sticks to Megatron.

"I think art will help you get rid of all that rage. You can use my little sisters crayons and coloring book," she told him happily.

Megatron looked down at a picture of a cute fluffy bunny, and back at the human girl. "You must be joking."

"Hey, it's either this or I can take away your legs," Emilou told him, her face dead serious.

Megatron contemplated this while looking with a sharp eye at the picture of the mammal. "I will require green first," he told her.

Emilou smiled brightly, and handed him the green crayon. Positioning it in between his long large back legs, Megatron pushed and pulled the waxy art utensil back and forth with his stubby front claws which couldn't even make it around the tool.

Time passed quickly and quietly after that. Emilou had brought her notebook and history book to the bed, and was quickly writing down notes as she read through her homework. Waspinator, in his simple way, had landed on Emilou's head and fallen asleep, his rhythmic buzzing snores adding a calming background noise to the atmosphere. Optimus Primal, interested once she brought out the book, read over her shoulder enthusiastically. When she was done, he had requested he read it from the beginning. That had kept him quiet. It took Emilou a while to realize something was missing.

"Where's Rattrap?"

Optimus Primal, looking up from the large book, glanced around and shrugged. "I don't know. He was here before you started reading."

* * *

Whistling to himself, Rattrap dragged the couch across the small room until it was by the window. From there, he rearranged a coffee table and the TV so that they looked aesthetically pleasing to himself. From there, he went outside of the house and scrounged around the piles of clutter until he found a tiny plastic figurine of a elephant and a plastic houseplant. He wasn't looking for anything specific, just something to make the room look nicer. He put the houseplant in the corner, and the elephant on the coffee table. After that, he looked around and sat in the couch. Placing his feet on the coffee table and his arms behind his head, he leaned back and sighed.

"I could get used to this."

* * *

Emilou panned the room with her eyes, and went back to her homework. "Oh well, he'll turn up sometime." She wrote a few more sentences, and then looked to her side. "Are you coloring in the lines, Megatron?" she asked the purple T-rex.

The lizard head looked straight up at her. "I am, yeees," Megatron told her, and went back to coloring.

Emilou's smile brightened even more, and she started to hum as she wrote.

Megatron glanced back up at the human to make sure she was preoccupied, and then softly lifted the next page up enough so that he could continue drawing his evil plans on another page.

Time once again passed quickly as all of the residence of the room were focused on their tasks. It wasn't long before 3:30 rolled by, and yellow bus stopped in front of the house and let out one little girl. She ran up to the house, and opened and slammed the door behind. Hopping up the stairs with more energy than a turbine, she ran through the hall to the room she shared with her older sister. Once she opened the door, she heard a scream.

"What?"

Emilou, surprised by the sudden entrance of her family member, jumped from her place on the bed and screamed. Her sudden moves disturbed the insect in her head, who took off muttering over something that made sense only to him.

"N-nothing," Emilou said nervously, snatching Waspinator out of the air and Optimus Primal from the book and put them both in her lap. She moved a little so Megatron was out of sight.

"Do you still feel sick?" Chiera asked impishly, throwing her coat and backpack onto the carpet.

"I still have a headache, but I feel better," Emilou told her sister testily, and propped her book up on her legs so that Chiera couldn't see the transformers.

After their greeting, Chiera moved around her half of the room, picking up certain toys. When she had an armload, she put them in a certain drawer of her dresser and started the process again.

"Why are you doing that now? You never pick up," Emilou complained, wishing her sister could leave long enough to hide the four robots.

"I can't go to my friend's house tomorrow unless I clean up," Chiera told her, flinging some of Emilou's things across the room. "Mom said so."

"Arg," Emilou moaned, and tried to work while she waited. The two in her lap didn't help, but at least they stayed quiet.

"What the. . .Keep your stupid toys on your side," Chiera shouted, her childish voice going higher.

"Huh?" Emilou asked, confused.

From within the doll house, Rattrap had turned some of his sensors off to relax and didn't notice the other presence until small fingers wrapped around him. "Eeep!" he squeaked as he was squeezed and pulled out of the house.

Chiera waved the caught Rattrap at Emilou who could hear a "Whoooooaa nooooo," coming from him. But the seven-year old didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I guess I did leave him over there. Silly me," Emilou said nervously, and reached her hands out for Chiera to bring Rattrap over to her.

As the young girl did, she caught sight of a small pile of crayons and a coloring book. "Why do you have my stuff? Did you go through my stuff?" Chiera shouted angrily, her voice going high once more. She spotted the Predacon with one of the crayons, and gave Emilou a weird look. "What are you doing?" she asked, a slight smile poking through her lips at the ridiculous image.

"I-ah-I don't know, just goofing off," Emilou said, reaching for Rattrap, who was quietly pleading to be rescued. But that was her mistake as she took the Maximal, Chiera started gathering her things by first going for the crayon in Megatron's grasp.

Megatron had ignored all outer distractions for the time, finding himself concentrating very hard on a dot-to-dot to figure out what the picture was. Just as he was half-way through, the black crayon had been snatched away. It was an unconscious reflex when he bite at the small hand and shouted, "Hey, give that back. I require it."

It took only three second for the child to process the information her eyes didn't believe and to send enough air through her vocal chords to hit a scream note one below the pitch that would break glass. It took her less time to exit the room, still screaming.

"Guys, meet my sister, Chiera," Emilou said bluntly as soon as the girl left.

"Charmed," Megatron snorted, and picked up his crayon to finish the dot-to-dot. "Oh, of course. It's a train. Excellent."

"Great. Now my crazy sister knows," Emilou muttered. "It won't be long before the whole world knows."

Optimus Primal looked up at his benefactor with sympathetic eyes. "There must be a way that you can persuade your sister to keep us a secret."

"You don't understand, Optimus," Emilou whined to him, leaning back. "Little kids don't know how to keep secrets. They're mouths just keep going and going until they've said everything they know, and then they start all over again. Their mouths don't have an off switch."

"Sounds like you two have something in common," Rattrap spoke up.

Emilou glared at the small robot. "I'll try, you guys. But I'm not guaranteeing anything. Stay here." She took Optimus Primal and Waspinator from her lap, set them on the bed and left. It wasn't long until she came back, stearing the younger human in front of her.

"Nooooooo! I don't wanna," Chiera screamed, struggling to brace her legs against Emilou's pushing.

"They're not going to hurt you," Emilou said reassuringly.

"But they're just like the Chucky doll," Chiera whined, clinging to Emilou's shirt. "They're going to kill all of us."

Emilou rolled her eyes. "No they're not," she growled and turned the girl so she was facing the four robots. "Look. See, no knives."

"They don't have them now, it's not night time," Chiera said in a matter-of-fact voice. "They'll get them when the sun goes down and their eyes glow red."

"That's ridiculous. They're Beast Wars toys. They came from Wal-mart," Emilou argued and finally positioned Chiera right in front of the bed. "Just think of them as tiny aliens, because that's what they are in the show."

"Aliens?" Chiera's voice sounded less frightened.

"Okay, guys. This is my sister, Chiera. She's seven," Emilou introduced. "Chiera, you've seen the show a few times. This is Rattrap, Optimus Primal, Waspinator, and Megatron."

All of them except for Megatron said some sort of greeting and waved. Chiera backed up a bit.

"Don't be a baby. I've been hanging around with them all day, and they're harmless. See?" Emilou picked up Waspinator in both palms and showed Chiera. "This is my Lt. He's a sweety."

"Wazpinator sweet?" the robot asked, wondering what that meant.

Chiera giggled at that.

"And watch this," Emilou said and tossed the Predacon into the air. He immediately started beating his wings, and flew in a circle around their heads.

Chiera ducked as if the flying robot was aiming for her, but didn't seem too much afraid of him. "That's the one I gave you."

"Yep. Now are you scared of them?"

"Nope."

"Are you going to tell anyone about them? Because you can't.

"Why not?"

"Because if you do, men from the government will come and take all of our stuff and erase all our minds," Emilou said in a serious voice.

Chiera's eyes grew to the size of pillows and she cowered. "No, I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good girl. Now finish picking up," Emilou said, pointing to the messy side of the room.

"Okay, but afterward will you play with me?"

Emilou frowned, her eyes looking up in exasperation. "Maybe. I have homework I need to do."

"Okay," Chiera said happily as if she heard a "yes".

Emilou climbed back on the bed and sat down in the same position she was in earlier. "Alright, crisis averted. We're okay."

Optimus Primal rubbed his ape chin. "That was an. . .interesting tactic you used talking to your sister," he said unsurely

"You just have to know how to deal with them," Emilou said with her face toward her paper. "How are you doing, Meg? Coloring okay?"

Megatron quickly flipped a few of the pages until he found an uncolored paper. "Ah. . . yes, I'm coloring within the lines neatly."

Emilou heard the quick movement of paper, and looked over. "Hey, what was that? What were you doing?"

"Nothing. No."

"Give me that," Emilou said, not fooled at all. She turned the pages until she came to one that was a picture on top of a picture. "What is that. . .Is this a blueprint?. . .Is that suppose to me? What's it doing? Gasp," Emilou said, her voice horrified by the picture in blue crayon. "Megatron. . .Why did you draw a picture of a machine designed to knock me out?"

Megatron shrugged. "I'm misguided?"

"Nice try. What is this?" Emilou question after she flipped to the end of the coloring book. There were a few blank pages, and one of them had been colored on. It was a picture of Megatron, in his robot mode, standing on a contorted body of Optimus Primal, also in robot mode. There were X's in the Maximal's eyes. A purple liquid was flowing out of Optimus's chest where Megatron had stabbed him with a flag with the Predacon symbol on it. Megatron's face was that of a glorified hero.

"Megatron. . ."

"Is that me?" A voice from Emilou's side asked.

"I was bored."

"Am I dead?"

"Horrible. Very gruesome," Emilou said with a shake of her head. "But nice attention to detail. The composition is very good, and you even shaded it. Nice. We'll have to hang it on the wall."

Optimus Primal looked up at the human with a look of dread, wondering what kind of person she really was.

"Excellent," Megatron said, looking a little proud of himself.

"However, this book is evidence of you committing treason. You'll have to be severely punished," Emilou informed him gravely.

"I'm aware of that. What is it now, dance lessons?"

"Ha, no. I think there's something worse than that," Emilou said looking around then room. She smiled like a full predator after a while. "No, I think your punishment should be that you have to play with Chiera."

"Oh, for bootin' up cold," Rattrap swore. "That ain't no punishment."

"I wouldn't underestimate my little sister," Emilou said, pointing at Rattrap. "And besides, if Megatron is going to do it, then I don't have to. However, I don't think it's a good idea since he has tried to attack me so many times already."

"Finally some sense," the rat called out.

". . .Unless," Emilou thought, looking around.

* * *

Minutes later, Megatron was sitting in a toy sized chair, a pink bonnet on his head, a Barbie's skirt around his thick waist and a rubber band wrapped around his purple muzzle.

"This is most indignant," Megatron muttered through his teeth, the best he could do with the rubber band.

"More tea, Madam Meggy?" Chiera asked, holding out a pink teapot to the T-rex.

"Yes, please," Megatron growled, holding up the pink cup that was bigger than his head.

Chiera pretended to pour out some liquid into first Megatron's cup and then her own. Then she picked hers up delicately, and took a pretend sip. "Where did you get that hat. It's absolutely fabulous, Madam Meggy. Did you order it in through a catalogue?"

"No."

"Oh. I never buy anything unless it's in a catalogue," Chiera said in a stuffy voice. She looked down at the tea set, and gasped politely. "Oh, I forgot the crumpets. I must go get them out of the oven, or they will burn." She took tiny quick steps out of the room as if she were wearing a tight dress. As she left, she called out, "Please serve tea to our other guests."

On his right, there was a tiger with only one eye button and a melancholy expression on it's velveteen face. To his left, there was a rag-doll with a patchwork dress on, her yarn hair pulled back into a messy pony tail. Megatron scowled at them, and put a few of the fake sugar cubs into each of the cups.

When Chiera came back, she had some crackers on a plate. "Sorry about that, ladies. I'm so forgetful when I host a party, ho ho. Miss Sofie, you must simply tell me who does your hair, I love it," she said addressing the doll. She then looked down at the cups. "Madam Meggy, what did you do?!" she shouted, and grabbed the teacup in front of the tiger. "You can't give him sugar. You know he's diabetic."

Megatron looked up at the young human with a quizzical look.  
"That is the weirdest thing I have ever seen," Optimus Primal commented as he stared at the scene with the notorious Predacon leader and the young girl.

"Oh yeah," Rattrap agreed.

"Tell me about it. She's so weird," Emilou said, her nose still to her book. "I mean, who talks like that. Seriously."

"But it seems to be working. I haven't seen Megatron so tragic. Ho ho, I'm lovin' it," Rattrap laughed, his rattish smile beaming. "I've got to hand it to you, Emilou, you seem to know how to handle the big lizard."

Emilou gave him a grateful smile, and looked proud of herself.

"Nonetheless, I don't think it's safe for Megatron to be around you two," Optimus Primal commented gravely.

"Safe for us, or for him," Emilou quipped.

"You know what I mean. He is small, but he's still Megatron," Optimus Primal said frowning. "Just take that blueprint he made for example. He'll do anything to get out of here."

"Are you joking?" Emilou told him, her face full of skepticism. "How could he build that? There's nothing around here that he could use as materials, not to mention the hours it would take to build it. I think you worry too much, Blue."

Optimus Primal lifted an eyebrow at the nickname. "But we still should leave. We need to get back to our own world. We don't belong here."

"I don't know, boss monkey. I'm kind of liking it here," Rattrap said.

"Huh? A moment ago, you were criticizing everything Emilou did, and wanted to leave in a hurry. Now you don't mind it."

"Well, if you think about it, it's not that bad," Rattrap shrugged. "There's only one Pred to worry about, Emilou's keepin' the peace okay, and there's no weapons. Not to mention, I've been in robot mode all day, and I haven't been zapped by any energon buildup."

"Rattrap, your being optimistic," Optimus Primal said surprised. "It's scaring me."

"Eh, put it in your exhaust pipe," Rattrap told him, and walked off. He had other things to think about, like how he should arrange the upstairs bedroom in the dollhouse.

Optimus Primal sighed, and he had to agree with Rattrap, which was very rare. Even with Megatron's presence, this was a peaceful place. A strange one, but peaceful. There were so many interesting things that he wanted to explore, and Emilou told him about all the books on history, biology and other things that were in other rooms of the house, he had to admit that it wouldn't be so bad to stay here for a while.

Suddenly the tranquility was interrupted by some noise outside of the door. Emilou and Chiera both recognized it, but the former reacted to it.

"Mom alert. Everyone don't move," Emilou told the robots cautiously, making sure all of them were obeying her. "Chiera, I wasn't talking to you. You can move."

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. The same human from the morning popped her head in.

"How are my girls doing?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Oh, and you cleaned your room."

"Yeah, so I can go tomorrow?"

"Right. How are you feeling Emilou?"

"Better. I think I can go to school tomorrow."

"Good. By the way, you got something in the mail." The woman walked in, and set a package on the bed. "It's from Ty-chou."

"Ooo" Emilou awed, and grabbed it. As the woman left, she started tearing into it.

"Who'zz Ty-chou," the wasp flew to her, hovering over the package.

"She's my older sister. She lives far away, so we don't get to see her often. She must have sent me a birthday present."

"Interesting," Optimus Primal observed. "You humans give each other gifts on the anniversary of your birth. What an intriguing tradition."

"Yeah, I guess," Emilou said without a care. The packaging and tape was ripped off in a flurry, and the young woman pulled out a cardboard and clear plastic object. The words Beast Wars was printed on nearly every inch of it. The two Maximals gapped at the package, but Emilou exclaimed, "Cool! Let's put him in the night stand too."


	3. Across and Down

Beast Wars Transferred: Across and Down

By Emilou

"Cool. Let's put him into the night stand too."

Emilou danced across the room, hugging the plastic package to her chest.

"Wait a moment," Optimus Primal shouted at her from the bed. "What are you saying? You're going to bring him to life, like you did with us."

Emilou was beaming. "Sure I am. It's going to be great."

"Let's think about this for a minute," Optimus Primal told her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Emilou stopped her parade and bent down to Optimus Primal's level. "Why would you say that?"

"There's no way back for us," the blue ape bot told her, "so is it a really good idea to bring more of us here?"

"Sure it is," Emilou said, her smile still bright. "I don't see what the problem is. If you four can't figure out how to go home, then maybe five of you can."

"I really think we should talk about this before we do anything rash," Optimus Primal tried to reason with the human girl. He started to wonder where Rattrap was. He usually had a few good arguments.

"I have. We need him because the balance of power is out of wack," Emilou told him. "There are three Predacons and only two Maximals. We need him to keep the teams even."

The Maximal leader was starting to lose his patience. "That ridiculous."

"No, you're ridiculous."

"You're just making excuses."

"I think you're just worried that I'm going to persuade him to be a Predacon," Emilou said, an evil look on her face.

"Th-that's not true," Optimus defended.

"So you agree, we should put him in the night stand," she said quickly and started ripping into the package.

Optimus Primal was confused and tried to remember if he actually agreed to this. "No wait."

But it was too late. Emilou had placed the freed plastic figure inside the drawer and shut it. Before Primal could protest any further, the key was in the hole and turning.

"What's all this racket?" Rattrap shouted from the front door of the dollhouse. "I'm trying to perfect my home."

"Hey, that's my dollhouse," Chiera, Emilou's little sister, screamed. She left the "guests" of her tea party, including the ex-Predacon leader, to rush to the small domicile. "That's mine. Get out of it."

"Let him stay in there," Emilou shouted at her little sister. "You never use it any more."

"No, it's mine," the young girl said in her determined young voice. "I do too use it."

"No, you don't. You just leave it in the corner."

"Yes, I do," Chiera again shouted. Then she spotted something behind the dollhouse and grabbed it. She held a plastic man up. "He moved Bill out of his place."

"So. You never play with him anymore."

Chiera shoved the plastic man into Rattrap's face. "Why did you move Bill?"

"He was crampin' my place," Rattrap said with folded arms. "He didn't fit with the rest of the decor."

"Don't you dare touch my stuff."

"Stop it, Chiera. He's fine."

"Nooooooooooo!" Chiera screamed, her voice's pitch rising.

All the toys clutched at their audios to keep the sound out of them.

"Oh, someone, please, shut that creature up. Yeeeeeesssssss," Megatron moaned. But due to the rubber band around his snout, his muffled voice was unheard. And even if they could hear him, nobody cared.

Emilou, however, took the protest with indifference. She had to deal with this every day. She was an expert at it. With deliberate slowness, she grabbed Chiera's shoulders and shouted, "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!"

Finally after the last "stop it," Chiera obeyed.

"Chiera, they're just toys. They aren't hurting your stuff."

"But they're YOUR toys and they're touching MY stuff."

Emilou sighed. "Okay, how about this. If you let him stay in the house, I'll buy you a candy bar tomorrow."

Chiera grinned. "Okay." And she went back to playing tea party with "Madam Meggy."

It wasn't long after the small argument that a voice called from beyond the door, "Girls, time to come and eat."

The two suddenly realized how hungry they were, dropped everything they were doing and ran out of the room. Emilou had a little sense to return to say, "I'll be right back guys. Watch the troublemaker, Lieutenant," she ordered pointing to the T-rex.

Waspinator saluted her with one of his front legs.

All was quiet for a while until they heard a soft knocking of metal against wood.

"Hello? Is anyone out there? It's really dark in here," a voice called out.

Both Predacons and Maximals turned to the wooden night stand in surprise. They had forgotten about the transformer that was locked in the drawer until the muffled voice of the unknown robot called out.

"Whoa, Emilou. Emilou. Come back," Optimus Primal shouted as loud as he could, running across the thick carpet. But it was futile. He was just too small and she was too far away to hear. "Waspinator, go after her. Tell her to come back."

"Wazpinator not take orderz from Maximal. Wazpinator second in command of Predaconz. Only take orderz from Emibot," Waspinator told Optimus highly.

"Come on, bugbreath," Rattrap yelled at the flying robot. "Do you really think Emilou will want him stuck in there? Go get her."

"No."

"Why not, bug breath?" Rattrap snapped.

Waspinator folded his front insect arms. "Maximalz doezn't respect Wazpinator," he insisted.

The two Maximals sighed, knowing now that it was useless trying to reason with the Predacon.

"The key," Optimus Primal yelled suddenly and looked around.

"The key?" Rattrap repeated.

"Yeah, the key. Where did she put it? We'll open up the desk ourselves," Optimus Primal explained. He spotted it up on the night stand and started to climb up the piece of furniture to it.

"Yeah, We can do that," Rattrap said, his voice turning more and more sarcastic as he slowly followed his leader. "And then we'll fly back to Cybertron on a rainbow."

"Just help me," Optimus Primal told the smaller bot in the voice he reserved just for Rattrap as he gave him a boost up to the night stand.

Rattrap grumbled some pessimistic scenarios of what could go wrong as he followed his leader up the night stand. "Let's just leave him in there. Emilou should be back in a few cycles at the latest," Rattrap tried to persuade as he hefted his bulky robot body onto the flat wooden surface.

"We don't leave Maximals behind," Primal stated.

"He's right under us. He's okay. Aren't ya, buddy?" Rattrap asked the faded varnish, patting it a little.

"Rattrap, is that you? Please say it is," the muffled voice asked timidly.

"Hang on, Maximal, we'll get you out," Optimus reassured the bot heroically.

"Big Bot, you're here too? Hurry up, it's really dark in here."

Just as Optimus thought, he spotted the key on the night stand, just where the human girl left it once she put the plastic maximal inside the drawer. He grabbed it and walked over to the edge.

"Help me out here, Rattrap," Optimus politely ordered.

As always, the smaller maximal begrudgingly obeyed. After a few brainstorms, Optimus Primal lowered Rattrap down the edge of the drawer with the latter's tail weapon. Normally, the ratbot would shun any mission involving any heights, but the thick, pink carpet soothed him. Perhaps he was becoming used to the color pink, and he couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing.

It wasn't hard to put the key into the hole, the brass object was the size of a bazooka or rocket launcher for Rattrap, and he just stabbed it in with one shot. It was the turning of the key that was the problem. Since he was hanging in air, he couldn't get enough leverage to twist the key and the old tumblers in the hole. Instead of trying too hard, the shrewd maximal just grabbed the key at the right place, and had his leader pull him up, twisting the key at the same time.

And that's as far as they got. Not only did the night stand's top hang far too much over the drawer so they couldn't reach it, but they were also too small to pull it open.

Meanwhile, Waspinator was being a very, loyal minion. Although he wasn't very good at individual thinking, he had taken blind obedience to an art. He watched Megatron very closely. He watched as Megatron waited until the Maximals were busy. Then he watched as Megatron rubbed his head against the carpet until he released his jaws from the rubber band. Then he watched as Megatron ran under Chiera's bed.

"Wazpinator'z good at watching," he buzzed to himself.

"Come on, Rattrap. Let's try one more time. This time you lower me down," Optimus planned.

Rattrap sighed, and did as he was told, though skeptic that he could hold the larger bot up.

But Optimus Primal realized that his weight would be an issue and used one of his massive gorilla arms to hang onto the edge while using his other one to wedge a pen in the drawer's crack. The tip of the writing utensil was the right size to wiggle through. He moved the pen back and forth like a lever until the opening became larger to use his primate digits and pulled it opened.

A freckled feline face met his as the Maximal tried to leap to freedom. Optimus swung slightly back as rubbed the pain away from his face.

"Oh, sorry about that, Bigbot. You've got a pretty thick skull," the Maximal said without thinking.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Cheetor," the Maximal leader said as he swung back and forth. "Here, let's get you out of there." With his long arms, he was able to wrap them around the thin feline frame of Cheetor. "Pull us up, Rattrap."

As they were hefted up by the smallest of their members, Cheetor looked up gleefully. "Hey, Rattrap. What's happen'?"

"Don't talk to me unless you want to get dropped," Rattrap grunted at him as he ground his feet into the night stand wood struggling to pull them up.

"You don't need to do that. I'll just get my jets in gear, and save you the trouble," Cheetor said confidently, and readied himself to leap out of Optimus's arms.

Optimus Primal clamped onto his youngest crew member. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The tone of his voice was smothered with warning.

"Oh, it's not a big deal, Big. . .Bot. . ." Cheetor started to say, but he was distracted as he finally looked at the lay of the land, and his feline jaw dropped at the pink carpet, the incredibly large furniture, the strange objects that were strewn all over the floor and the white walls that made up their sky. "Whoa! What's going on? Where are we?"

"We'll explain once we're no longer hanging over an edge," Primal promised.

The Maximal leader helped himself up and then assisted Rattrap in pulling up Cheetor.

"Where in blazes did we end up?" Cheetor asked as he surveyed the scenery. "Am I dreamin'?"

"I don't know how crazy your dreams are, but this isn't one of them, kid," Rattrap told him. "I've never had a dream that gives me a headache."

"We'll explain everything," Optimus told him, and cleared his throat for the long story. "I guess we should start with Emilou. She's. . .er. . ."

"A giant pain in the neck. Emphasis on the giant," Rattrap helped out. When he was given a disapproving look from Optimus, he just gave him a "What?"

After some long minutes of explanation. . .and re-explaning. . .Cheetor was still in disbelief over the situation.

"This is crazy, Optimus. We're really in some totally different dimension where we've changed into child playthings for gigantic humans?" Cheetor re-iterated.

"Uh, yes. I guess that's one way to put it," Optimus Primal agreed.

"Whoa."

"Don't sound so in awe. We're stuck like this. There's no way back," Rattrap added his rust-covered two cents.

Cheetor lifted his head in nervous surprise. "But, we were able to get here, so there's gotta be a way back."

"We're hoping so," Optimus told them. "We're not going to give up on going home."

"Great heroic speech, Optimus," Rattrap muttered. "But in the meantime, I intend to spend my time resting. The Beast Wars hasn't been kind to my internal parts, if you know what I'm sayin'."

Cheetor was looking around the room with big eyes, which landed on a sight that gave him chills and made him back away a little. One was a lined piece of paper that had the words "Predacon Code" written on it in large letters; next to it was a picture of a transformed Megatron standing over the body of a bleeding Optimus Primal. He leaned back with a worried look. "Are you sure this human is okay?"

"For a Predacon," Rattrap told him with a smug look.

Cheetor looked startled, but Primal set a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"She's a strange one, I'll give her that. But I believe that she is sincere in wanting to help us and keep us safe."

"The problem is, she wants us _all_ safe. Even the. . ."

"Predacon!" Cheetor shouted. "Get down you guys!" The long jungle cat jumped onto Rattrap and knocked him to the night stand's top.

Rattrap immediately started cursing at Cheetor as the cat's weight kept him from getting up.

"Oh, for bootin' up cold. It's only Waspinator," Rattrap shouted at his fellow warrior.

Cheetor gave the rat bot a confused look, his mouth open but nothing coming out.

"Get off of him," Primal calmly told his energetic underling. "For now, Waspinator's not a threat. . .I think."

"Shoo, go away, ya bug," Rattrap told the Predacon, waving his hands at him.

"Wazpinator not go. Wazpinator is watching troublemaker," the bugbot buzzed at them, looking not too concerned about anything.

"Troublemaker? Who's that?" Cheetor asked.

Rattrap and Optimus Primal thought for a minute, and then realized what that implied.

"Oh no," Rattrap moaned as he started to turn around.

The Maximals were met with a view of sharp predator teeth right before their optics, gnashing and growling at them.

All three of them took a few steps back, and started laughing.

Megatron straightened up, and growled in a menacing voice, "What are you all laughing at?"

Cheetor, his tail thrashing wildly in humor, was able to gasp out a few words. "Bwa ha ha ha. Hee hee. . .Bonnet. . .Ho ho ho hee hee. . Pink. . Pfffff . . .dress. . . Ha haha ha."

Megatron snatched the baby bonnet from his head and threw it off the night stand. "Foolish Maximals. You will pay for this. . .yes. But before that, I shall rid myself of this raiment." And with tooth and claw, Megatron attempted to remove the lacy pink doll dress from his metallic body. However with his short arms and large back legs, this attempt to take off the dressed made him look like a chick trying to learn how to dance, causing the Maximals to laugh even harder.

In his anger, Megatron became frantic to take the dress off. He was able to get one of his back legs around the ribbon that was tied around the waist of the dress, and got that caught. Unbalanced, he fell to the wooden night stand top, the dress's skirts billowed up and fell back over his head. Seeing red even more before, Megatron roared, cursed and struggled, his long tail lashing all over.

The Maximals were now completely weak with hysterics over the view of Megatron's bottom half trying to wiggle free from the pink cloth that had engulfed him. They knew that if Megatron freed himself, they would be helpless from his wrath.

"Maximals ha ha ha," Optimus Primal tried to say to his comrades. "Heh heh. . We have to. Tee hee hee. . .get a hold of. . .Pah haha, he's stuck! Ha haha. . .of ourselves. We're. . .ha hah ha. . defenseless."

Like cripples, the three of them started to head for the other side of the night stand, still laughing like idiots.

Megatron, tearing away at the cloth with his dinosaur jaws, freeing himself from his self-inflicted humiliation. "Prepare yourselves, Maximals," he growled.

Cheetor recovered quickly, and gasped as he saw the fury of Megatron as he leapt onto Optimus Primal's back and snapped at the gorilla's arms.

"Optimus. Hang on," Cheetor shouted. "Cheetor. Maximize!" And nothing happened.

Megatron laughed heartily. "None of that here, pussy-cat. You're stuck in beast mode, yes."

"Lucky for me, I'm not," Rattrap shouted and leapt onto the bigger T-rex's back.

"Get off of me, you vermin," Megatron roared, swinging around and around like a bucking bronco trying to ride itself of its rider.

"Yee ha," Rattrap shouted, kicking Megatron in the ribs. "Take that, ya stupid saurian."

Megatron turned his head, and snapped his jaws over Rattrap's leg and pulled him off his back.

"Rattrap, I'll save ya," Cheetor shouted, racing over and bitting the dinosaur around the ankle. At the same time, Optimus Primal grabbed Megatron around the other ankle.

Unbalanced, Megatron fell hard on the night stand top, releasing his jaws from Rattrap's foot. Once freed, the rodentbot jumped up and quickly sat on the Predacon tyrant's head.

"What the crap is that?" a voice shouted from outside the bedroom over Megatron's prehistoric noises. The bedroom door swung open, and Emilou came racing in. One quick look at the situation, Emilou didn't need a script to know what to do. She clapped her hands loudly, and yelled at the group of Cybertronians. "Okay, okay, boys. Break it up. Stop it now."

Optimus Primal and Rattrap gave her wide-eyed looks that told her that she was crazy. However, Cheetor, who had never seen a human that was like a mountain to him, was backing away quickly in horror. Unknown to him, he was backing away to the edge of the night stand.

Just as the catbot was going to fall off, a giant hand wrapped its fingers around his body and lifted him in the air.

"Whoa, be careful Cheetor," Emilou told him as she lifted him close to her face. "Oh my gosh, you're alive. It amazes me every time."

Cheetor's ears pricked up as he found that he was being gently held by the giant hand and the girl's huge eyes glittering in the light looked at him curiously.

"How do you know my name?" Cheetor asked, feeling hardly any fear as the girl smiled brightly.

"I'm a fan, of course," she told him with a laugh. "My name is Emilou, by the way."

At this time, the bat-sized waspbot flew about Emilou and landed softly on her head.

"Hi, Waspinator," Emilou said, and tapped the body lightly with a finger. "What happened here? I thought I told you to watch Megatron."

"Wazpinator _did_ watch," he protested. "Wazpinator watched as Megatron attacked Maxzimalz."

Emilou's face fell to a frown and then she chuckled humorously. "Note to self," she said to the side. "Second-in-command takes things literally." She put Cheetor back on the night stand top.

"Second-in command?" the feline questioned, and looked to the Maximal leader.

All the blue gorilla could do was sigh. Rattrap made a twirling gesture to the side of his head.

"That's right," Emilou told him with an evil grin on her face, bending down so she was level with him. "I'm the new Predacon leader, and Waspinator is my loyal subject."

"Then why don't you take care of this particular subject before he tried to bit my face off again," Rattrap shouted at the human girl, hitting the purple T-rex on his snout.

Only then did Emilou really take a look at the scene. "Bad, Megatron. BAD! You ruined the pretty dress that Chiera gave you. You're going into time out. For the night!" She snatched up the horrible Megatron and carried him off.

As she searched the room for what she would need, Megatron never stopped cursing and threatening her as he tried to struggle free from her small hands. But it was useless as she quickly found the rubber band he had over his snout earlier, and quickly wrapped around so tight that he couldn't open it at all. After that, she found a white hair scrunchie, and wrapped that around his hind feet. Finally, she put him under the basket she had used earlier and placed books on top of it so he couldn't ever escape.

"Whew, that should hold him for the night. Because I'm not dealing with him anymore," the human said as she brushed her hands together. "Hopefully we can have a nice quiet night. Now, what were we doing before I went downstairs?"

Cheetor starred at the basket turned prison in astonishment, his finger pointing at it shamelessly. After a while, he turned to his fellow Maximals. "Did you see that? She just. . . He's in there. . . Unbelievable."

"Yeah, it's a little surreal, isn't it?" Rattrap helped out with a smirk.

Cheetor nodded, his mouth half-open.

Optimus Primal chuckled. "You'll get used to it," he told the feline. "I hope I'll get used to it."

"Hey, hey, hey," Rattrap spoke up loudly. "I ain't gettin' used to nothin' in this place, because we are going to find our way back to the Axelon, to where our buddies are."

"But how?" Cheetor asked.

"There's always a way; we just haven't thought of it yet," Optimus Primal told him. "We mustn't give up."

"That's great, you guys. But I have to get ready for bed. Pretending to be sick has really worn me out," Emilou told them, and proceeded to just that as Chiera bounded in. Even though her mother just told her that she had five minutes to be in bed, the young child ignored the order and sat down to finish her tea party.

"Hey, where did Madam Meggy go?" she asked her older sister who was about to go brush her teeth.

"Megatron? He's grounded for a while, so you can't play with him," Emilou told the child.

"But I haven't excused him yet?" Chiera said with indignation. "It's not proper for a guest to leave without their hostess's permission." Her fat, little cheeks puffed out, making her lips stick out.

Emilou rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm the authority figure of this room, and what I say goes."

Chiera sat down with a loud grunt. "But my party isn't over yet. Who's going to play with me now?"

Cheetor, who was listening attentively when the younger (but still quite large) human walked in. He could see that Chiera was much younger by her actions and voice. Even though he didn't know this younger human, he always had a desire to help those around him, even if it was such a small action of entertaining a child.

"I'll play with her," he volunteered, yelling as loud as he could so that the distant humans could hear.

Emilou turned around and looked at Cheetor thoughtfully. "Sure, why not?" she told him, and picked up the feline. "Let's transform you first."

"Huh?"

The next couple of minutes were entertaining for everyone else but Cheetor, who felt awkward and embarrassed at being touched all over. He was soon put onto the pink carpet, fully transformed.

"Fun, isn't it kid?" Rattrap told him with only a touch of humor. He knew what the experience was like, and he didn't care to go through it again.

"Be nice to him. I like this one," Emilou told Chiera as she set the now robot-form Cheetor in the doll chair at the tiny tea party. "And don't be too loud, or Mom's going to come up here and yell at you." She didn't even wait for Chiera to respond, but was off to brush her teeth.

"Would you like a crumpet?" Chiera asked her guest, offering an empty plate.

"I would, thank you," Cheetor told her, and took off an invisible pastry. He watched as Chiera pretended to eat one and then clean her chin off with a paper towel before copying her. "Yum, that's delicious. Did you make them yourself?" he asked, humoring the seven-year old.

"Yes, I did. Would you like the recipe?"

Rattrap made a gagging noise.

Cheetor and Chiera glared at him.

"Sorry for having an opinion," Rattrap told them. "And if it's okay for your two _girls_, I'm going to bed too. It's been a long day, I gotta tell ya."

"Girls?" Cheetor shouted, his voice cracking.

At this time, Primal couldn't help but jab at Rattrap just this once. "I wouldn't be talking, Rattrap. Now, remind me; what color is your house again?"

Rattrap gave him a rotten look and stomped to his pink doll house, slamming the pink door behind him.

Primal chuckled to himself as he settled down on the night stand. This was as good of a place as any to stay the night. There didn't seem to be any dangers in the room, and it would be near Emilou in case he needed her during the night. While Primal believed he was capable of doing many things even in his smaller form, there was no harm in being close to someone who could be of help.

Emilou, dressed in pjs and with clean teeth, walked in and closed the door. "Hurry up and finish playing your stupid game. Mom's going to come up soon," she told her younger sister before jumping into her bed and grabbing a small paperback book from underneath her bed to read for a while.

Optimus Primal studied the title of the book with curious optics. _Alice in Wonderland?_

Emilou saw him studying the book cover, and smiled down at him. "It's a good book. You should read it. You probably could relate to it a little."

About that time, another female human came into the room, her hands on her hips and an angry look on her countenance.

"Chiera, I told you to go to bed. If I have to come up here again, there's going to be some privileges taken away," the girls' mother half-yelled. "Emilou, I know you weren't feeling well today, but could you help me out a little."

"Yeah, yeah," Emilou mumbled a bit, sinking further into her bed covers.

Cheetor felt bad. Even though this angry human was just a few inches away from stomping on him, he mustered up enough courage to say something on Chiera's behalf. "We're all really sorry. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, Mrs. Mom," he said loudly but politely to the new human.

At the first syllable that the feline bot made, Emilou had moved like lighting to jump out of bed and sprung at the action figure turned real. Her hands clapped around the small body and hugged him to her chest.

"Good gracious, Emilou, but with that kind of energy I think you're well enough to go to school tomorrow," her mom told her with suspicious eyes.

"Yeah, I think I'm well enough too. The day's rest really helped," Emilou said sheepishly. "I thought that I would help out, like you said. Picking up my toys and all that. Go to bed, Chiera." Emilou stood up, and put Cheetor behind her back as she gave her mother a big grin.

Cheetor mumbled a cry of complaint from behind Emilou.

"What's that noise?" Emilou's mother asked. "And I thought that I heard someone talking before."

"Gee, mom, you must be hearing things," Emilou said with a voice only teenagers can get away with. "You're getting senile in your old age."

Her mom gave her "the look" and then gave one more warning about Chiera going to bed before leaving.

When the door was shut, Emilou let out a sigh of relief. "Wow, that was close."

"Mmmm mmm m m mmmmmmmmmm," Cheetor shouted from within her grip.

Emilou gently set the Maximal onto the floor.

"What was that about?" he asked, a little irked. "I was just trying to help your sister out."

Emilou frowned. "That's nice of you to think of her, but I don't think it's a good idea for my mother to know about you guys."

"How come?"

"My mother would freak out. I don't know how she would really react to you guys," Emilou told him. "Not to mention other people. They may not accept something like this. There may be people who will want to experiment or even destroy you guys if they find out."

Cheetor looked disconcerted. "Well, that does make sense. I guess humans don't seem so different from Cybertronians. There are Maximals and Predacons."

Cheetor's words made Emilou go silent for a while, thinking about it. She silently stood up, and went up one of her room's walls. "I guess that should be another rule in the Predacon Code," she said, picking up her pen and writing on the piece of paper. "Don't show yourself to other humans. Don't you agree, Lieutenant?"

Waspinator flew up to Emilou, watching her write. "Hmmmm. Wazpinator think that good rule. Wazpinator not like Mombot."

Emilou chuckled. "Well, that's not surprising since she only comes up here to tell me what to do."

"Wait, what is this Predacon Code?" Cheetor asked from the floor. "Hey, don't take offense to what I said. I don't think you're like a Predacon."

"Sorry, Cheetor, but it's too late. I've already joined the Predacon cause, taking on the mantle of leadership since the mighty Megatron has fallen from the position by my own hands," Emilou said without modesty. "I am the Predacon Queen, and my word is law."

Cheetor had immediately liked Emilou at once, even though he had only known her less than an hour, but her words sounded corrupt and perverse to him. What was wrong with this girl?

"Says who?" Cheetor asked.

"The Predacon Code," Emilou told him matter-of-factly. "And it also says that if you don't do what I say, you will be severely punished."

Cheetor suddenly looked frightened, and didn't doubt that she could punish him most severely.

Rattrap shook his head. "Quit scarin' the pussy cat," he shouted at Emilou. "Don't listen to her. Her idea of severe punishment is that," he told Cheetor and pointed at Megatron laying within the blue basket quietly.

"But she said she's a Predacon?" Cheetor said confused. "I don't know what to think of this?"

"Hey, just think of me the leader of a new model of Predacons," Emilou told him. "Me and Waspinator aren't for death and destruction like the lame Predacons of the past were. We're totally for having fun and keepin' the peace for bots and kids everywhere."

"And no slaggin' Wazpinator," Waspinator added.

"Yes," Emilou said with a serious face and a brief nod. "We have a definite no Waspinator slaggin' policy."

Cheetor laughed at Emilou's mock seriousness, and how strange she sounded. The name of Predacon was now tainted with cute and happiness in his mind. "Now that's the kind of Predacon I could get to like."

"Really?" Emilou smiled brightly. "Then why don't you join us?"

Cheetor laughed. "Yeah right. Me, be a Pred. Ha ha ha. Quit joking."

"I'm not joking."

"Huh?"

"You'd have to submit a resume first."

"A resume?"

"I'm joking about the resume, Cheetor," Emilou laughed. "But I think that you should be our new Predacon."

Cheetor rubbed the back of his neck. "Gee, well, I'm flattered that you invited me to your. . .um. . .cause. But I like being a Maximal."

Emilou tossed her hair. "That's cool. But the invitation stands whenever you want it."

"LIGHTS OUT NOW!"

"Opse, gotta go to bed," Emilou told them, scooping up Cheetor and putting him on the night stand as she turned off the lights.

"Good night, guys," she whispered to the two. "Good night, Rattrap. Good night, Waspinator."

"Meh," the ratbot muttered wearily, already shutting down his systems.

Waspinator buzzed sleepily as he landed on the shelf right above Emilou's head.

All movement stopped in the room. Sound was reduced to the silent breathing of the two girls. Darkness prevailed save for two small red eyes that glared through the darkness, unable to do anything, but be filled with hate.

******

The alarm went off just as it did every other day. Emilou slapped it, yawned and struggled with sleep to get up. With half-closed eyes, she crawled out of bed and moved to her dresser, pulling out articles of clothing, only half conscious of what she was doing. Halfway dressed, she didn't notice the moving figure on the dresser.

"Hey!"

"Ahhhhhhh!" Emilou screamed, and protectively covered herself as she slapped at the pervert.

Rattrap found himself flying through the air, coincidently, this happened to him the previous day at almost the same time. This time, he landed hard on the floor.

"Jeezz, don't do that to me," Emilou shouted at him as she passed him, trying to pull on her jeans. "Especially so early in the morning."

"Ouch," Rattrap whined from his face plant into the carpet. Good thing it was thick. "A little hand here."

"You reap what you sow," Emilou told him without sympathy. "Now where did my homework go? Ohhhhh. There's my history book," she said to herself, throwing things around as she looked for everything. She pushed everything into her book bag, and threw it over her shoulder. "Come on, Chiera. Mom's going to be pissed if she has to drive you to school again."

The younger sister was even slower to get dressed.

"Emilou, are you leaving us?" Cheetor asked from the night stand. He looked concerned and disappointed.

"I'm sorry, but I have school today. I'll be back, though. You guys just have to stay here for a few hours. Can you do that?"

"Without you. Gladly," Rattrap snapped as he pulled himself on the bed.

"You're mean," Emilou pointed out the obvious.

Optimus Primal didn't let her leave so quickly. "Wait. I don't suppose it would be too much trouble if you could. . .ah. . .transform me?" he requested, embarrassed about asking.

"Oh, now?" Emilou asked worried. "I don't have a lot of time." She looked down at the face of the blue gorilla. "Fine, but I have to hurry." She quickly pulled out the instructions for the Maximal and transformed him. "Sorry to do this, but I really have to go."

And with that she was out the door, followed by the seven-year old, who didn't seem to notice the living toys at all.

Cheetor looked over to his leader and asked, "Well, what do we do now?"

Optimus sighed and shook his head, feeling a little better about his situation now that he was in robot mode. He had been wanting Emilou to change him, but felt strange asking for help with something he had, until then, been able to do naturally. "I'm not sure, Cheetor. We're kind of stuck here, so we might as well make the best of it."

"You said it, boss monkey," Rattrap told him. "And I am treatin' this situation like a vacation. I'm going to put up my feet, and rest."

"I still think that we need to create a base," Optimus Primal told him. "I think Emilou mentioned some old shoe boxes that we could use, so let's do that."

"Speak for yourself. I already have a base," Rattrap told him proudly.

"The dollhouse?"

"Yeah, and what of it?" Rattrap defended.

"I don't think we should be spread out too much. We should stick together in case something happens?" Optimus argued.

"Like what?"

"Like. . .I don't know. An emergency."

"We're stuck in this room. I think we'll be fine," Rattrap told him. "You two can just go ahead and bust your cans makin' a new base. I have my own priorities."

Optimus Primal clenched his teeth in frustration. "Fine, do it your way. Come on, Cheetor. At least I have your help."

"Sure, you do, Big Bot," Cheetor told him, his child-like smile on his face. "But can we go look at Rattrap's dollhouse first."

Optimus reluctantly consented to a quick tour. As the three jumped off the night stand, they talked to each other just as they would on the Axelon. Their lives, for the time, seemed to be just a game of survival where the dangers were only make believe. However, they didn't seem to notice that in Emilou's hustle to be out the door that she had knocked over the basket made prison. Faintly on the carpet, there were some lines as if something had been dragged over it.

*********

The Maximals didn't seem to notice time going by, they were too busy doing their own things, not even knowing how high the sun was since the room sheltered them from its direct rays. Optimus and Cheetor had carried out the large shoe boxes they found and started creating their base. They found some scissors and tape by luck, and cut out doors and tapped boxes together so that they could have four walls. Everything was going very well, (they even found some colored construction paper to decorate the walls) when they could hear Waspinator buzzing frantically on top of their base. Cheetor and Optimus ran out so see what he wanted.

"Megatron iz gone," Waspinator shouted in panic. "Megatron is breaking Emibot'z rulez."

"Megatron? How did he get out?" Cheetor asked.

"Wazpinator not know. Wazpinator only saw Megatron leaving pink room," Waspinator buzzed, his wings twitching in agitation. "Wazpinator need Maxzimalz help. Wazpinator iz stuck in beast mode."

"We need to stop him," Optimus Primal told Cheetor. "There's no knowing what he could do. Rattrap!"

"Yeah, yeah. I heard," the other Maximal answered. "And I just started to relax. Well, let's go get that stupid Pred."

The three Maximals followed the flying Predacon outside of the pink carpeted room, and two of them gasped at how much space was beyond the door. Rattrap had been outside of the room before, and had seen most of the house, but he was still impressed by the structure.

"Now I really feel small," Cheetor commented.

"Look, there's Megatron," Optimus Primal observed pointing down the hall. "He's going around that corner. After him. Waspinator, you fly on ahead and tell us where he goes."

Waspintor didn't argue or say anything, but right away followed the order. It was something he was good at. He followed at a close distance of a few feet (in human measurements) from Megatron's retreating figure, every once in a while glancing back to see if the Maximals were following.

The T-Rex skirted around yet another corner, and started descending down some carpeted stairs, each about the same height that he was. The descent slowed down the ex-Predacon leader, so Waspinator felt that he could hover above the top step.

The Maximals screeched to a halt in front of Waspinator.

"Ah, for bootin' up cold. Do we have to follow him?" Rattrap complained, since each stair was twice his height.

"Don't worry, Rattrap, I'll help you," Cheetor said congenially, and pushed the smaller bot down the first step. When Optimus Primal gave him the eye, Cheetor shrugged. "Ah, c'mon Optimus. He's fine."

"I'll get you for this, pussy cat," Rattrap moaned from the lower step.

********

Megatron, dodged and darted around the house, trying to lose the turned-traitor Waspinator. But the trouble was the place was too big. There were pieces of furniture and debris on the floor, but nothing like a jungle or a cave to get lost in. It was aggravating, especially since he was limited in what he could do due to his dinosaur form. Out of desperation, Megatron grabbed a large piece of cloth in his jaws and tossed it at the insect bot as hard as he could.

Waspinator, blinded and losing his ability to fly, started to panic. Not knowing how to get out of the predicament, he turned chaotically until he ran into a solid object and fell to the ground.

Megatron laughed as his plan succeeded and hid himself well with the knowledge that nobody would see where he went. He watched patiently as Waspinator crawled out from the cloth at the same time that the Maximals had caught up to him. He spied with glee as they argued and bickered a bit, and then separated into two groups in search of the T-rex. After they had left, he chuckled to himself.

"Oh, I am a sly devil, yes," he told himself without modesty. "Now, to purge myself of this wretched human dwelling. Yes."

Quietly, he made his way around the downstairs area, easily spying a door. A door about twenty times taller than he, he noticed. An obstacle that needed thinking over. As he pondered over this difficulty, his eyes roamed over the room looking for anything that could be of use. But as he did, his optics glanced over a rolled-up pile of off-white paper with thick black type on it. On part of the paper was covered with little blocks, some filled in with black ink, some with letters written in a sloppy handwriting, and most of them blank. His quick brain quickly read over all the words involved and his calculating brain determined it to be some sort of human word game. Something that was beyond the knowledge of whichever human attempted to solve it. Nothing to do with him and his plan.

He left it to assemble his plan. A few moments later, he found himself drifting back to the pile of papers. He quickly picked up the pen discarded by it and filled in Twelve Across to be a five letter would meaning "Dangerous."

"Risky," Megatron muttered to himself. "Indeed. I have no time for this nonsense," he growled and went back to work.

A few minutes later, he was back again, filling in the last few letters of "Again" which was the answer for Seventeen Down "Once More." He once again abandoned the newspaper to get back to work. But the more he worked on escaping, the more he wanted to get back to that puzzle. Soon, he was trying to do both at the same time, but he had no idea why he cared so much for the silly word puzzle that he had found.

"Fifteen Across, three letters for 'Pertaining to a Living Organism'. Hmmmm," he mulled over the question, and then wrote in "Bio" for the answer. He chuckled evilly to himself. After solving a few more word problems, Megatron stood back and looked at the now finished crossword proudly.

"There he is. Get him!"

At the sound of another's voice, Megatron glanced back to see the group of Maximals and Waspinator coming toward him.

"No!" he growled and ran toward the door with his crude door-opening invention which he had finished long ago but was too distracted by the crossword puzzle to use it until now. He was no Tarantulus, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that some string and wire would do the trick. He threw the loop of the string around the handle, and pulled down. While holding down the string with his foot, he used his small arms to use the wire as a lever to open wide the door.

"No, stop him before he leaves," Primal shouted, running as fast as he could.

"You're too late, Primal. Yessss," Megatron gloated, and opened wide the door. Just as he was going to run out, he stopped short.

As one, the three Maximals tackled Megatron, not paying attention to the reason he didn't run outside.

"Hold him down. Don't let him up," Optimus told his troops.

"Uh, Optimus?"

"Why didn't he run, Big Bot?"

"I don't know, Cheetor."

"_Optimus?_"

"What is it, Rattrap?" the Maximal leader asked with a little snap.

"G-G-Giant CAT!" Rattrap shouted, his rodent part of him just waiting for the signal to run.

Optimus and Cheetor looked around and met two giant green eyes attached to a giant head. A giant mouth showing sharp teeth opened up.

"Merrrow?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" the three Maximals and Megatron shouted and started running across the tiled floor away from the door as one.

Which was a mistake. The ball of orange, white and black fur streaked after them, pawing at them as if they were balls of yarn. With the beast on their tail, the four of them ran from one room into another.

The four transmetals, scared senseless by the creature, dodged and ducked from the claws until they dove underneath one of the couches. As a group, they huddled close together until they realized who was in their midst. The Maximals pulled away from the Predacon, but not too far away since the giant cat was trying to squeeze underneath with them, yowling and howling the whole way.

In the background, they heard a muffled voice say, "Who left the door open? That's weird."

There was the sound of the door closing and footsteps.

"Princess? What are you doing in here? Were you the one who opened the door?"

The cat suddenly disappeared, as if lifted up in the air. The four transformers sighed in relief.

"Hey, kitty. What do you have under there?"

Once again, the four tensed up as a hand was placed on the ground. Two human eyes sunk down to the floor and squinted to see what was in the shadows.

"Hey, guys. What are you doing down here? I told you to stay in my room," Emilou said to them.

The Maximals exhaled in relief that it was Emilou and not a different member of the house. All except for Megatron quickly moved out from under the piece of furniture.

"Whew, that nearly made my carburetor jump out of my torso plate," Rattrap said almost too loudly.

"Me too," Cheetor added. "Man, I'd never thought that I would be afraid of another cat."

"What, were you trying to hide from my little Princess?" Emilou said, snuggling her face into the calico's neck whose eyes were dead set on the moving figures. "He's harmless."

"Glad you think so," Rattrap muttered. "Keep that thing away from me."

"Where's Waspinator?" Emilou asked as she noticed the missing Predacon.

At the name of his voice, Waspinator buzzed toward her, hovering close to her face.

"Wazzpinator izzz here," he told her.

Princess's eyes shot to the flying insect-bot, a paw ready to reach out to him.

"Why did you leave my room?"

"Megatron tried to leave. We pursued him," Optimus Primal explained, gesturing to the Predacon still sulking in the shadows.

"Well, I need to get you all back upstairs before Mom sees ya," Emilou said, and started to bend down as if to put Princess down, but thought about it. "Chiera! Come get your cat!"

The younger girl bounded in, her face filled with joy and surprise. "Princess. Oh, you pretty, pretty kitty. Let's go upstairs and play house." And she ran upstairs with the cat in tow.

"C'mon, you guys," Emilou said, and reached underneath the couch to expertly drag Megatron out by his lizard tail. "And you, mister, are in big trouble this time. You're grounded for a whole day, so back into the basket for you."

Megatron half-growled, half-sighed, "As I expected."

Emilou rolled her eyes, gathered up the Maximals and ran up to her room. First thing she did was put Megatron in his basket prison, this time weighing it down with something a big heavier than her textbooks.

"I hope this doesn't become a habit," Emilou grumbled.

Before any of the Maximals could react to that, the calico cat jumped on Rattrap, pinning the ratbot beneath his paws.

"Princess, stop that," Emilou told the cat, and tapped it between his ears. "They aren't your toys." She pushed the cat away, and let Rattrap up.

Immediately Rattrap ran away, and Princess went after him, catching him under the giant furry paws.

"Get it off of me!" Rattrap yelled, the animal part of him shaking with fear.

"Geez, if you didn't run, he wouldn't be after you," Emilou told him, picking up the cat. "And he's just curious. Let him get to know you, and then he'll become disinterested."

"I think the rat part of me just died a little," Rattrap wheezed as he hid behind Optimus.

"Aww, I think she's kind of cute," Cheetor said, and walked up to the cat and patted it.

Princess, glad for any kind of attention, butted his head against Cheetor happily.

"Him. HIM. Princess is a him," Chiera shouted at Cheetor in an offended voice.

"But you named him Princess?" Cheetor asked confused.

"Eh. . .well. . .we thought he was a girl when we first found him, since most calicos are female," Emilou explained. "We were really surprised when the vet told us our mistake. It's really rare for a calico to be a dude."

"Then change his name," Cheetor told her.

"Well, Chiera wouldn't let us," Emilou said. "She was four years old at the time, and threw a tantrum."

"But he's my little Princess," Chiera defended, picking up the cat who purred vigorously. "Besides, it's not like he's a boy now that he's had his operation."

"True," Emilou said with a nod, not seeing the shocked look on Cheetor's face. "Anyway, it sort of fits. He is really feminine."

"Why would you do that to a cat?" Cheetor said in a sad, little voice.

Emilou ignored him. "Anyway, I have homework to do, so I'm going to need quiet."

"I'm sorry, but I think first we need to talk," Optimus Primal told her in a serious voice.

Emilou knew that tone of voice, often used by her mother. She dropped her head back in annoyance. "What?" she moaned.

"It's about Megatron. You can't treat him like he isn't a menace. Who knows what could have happened today if we didn't catch him?" Primal told her, his arms crossed. "You shouldn't underestimate him because of his size."

"And I'm not. I think I'm dealing with him just fine," Emilou told him.

"By leaving him alone with us and letting us do all the work," Rattrap shot, keeping an eye on Princess. "No way. This is gonna stop, sister."

"Fine, what do you want me to do? I can't send you home, and I'm not going to tear his legs off, unless you're willing to buy me a new Megatron," Emilou told him.

"You need to do something, because this arrangement isn't working," Optimus Primal told her.

"He's just board. If he was kept occupied, then there wouldn't be anything to worry about," Emilou said, and started to mull over something she had seen downstairs. "And I think I know just how to do that."

*********

Two days later. . .

"Hey guys, I'm home," Emilou announced as she walked into her room. Bending down over one particular transformer she asked, "And how is our little Megatron doing today? Did you get into trouble?"

"Curse you, you wretched human!" Megatron shouted, shaking his little T-rex fist up at her. "Keeping me locked up for days with nothing to do all day but look at your retched, vile Maximal allies. I swear you will pay for all of this. Yessssss. One day you. . ."

"I bought a crossword puzzle book for you today. It has puzzles galore," Emilou told him, pulling out the book from her bag.

"Oh, gimme gimme gimme," Megatron cried out with glee, reaching out for it with his stubby little arms, his voice and body language changing immediately at the sight of the puzzle book. He snatched it out of her hands and went in search for a pencil and a quiet corner.

"What do you say?" Emilou called to him with a bright smile.

"Thank you," Megatron growled as quietly as he could.

Optimus shook his head. "This isn't what I meant when I asked you to deal with Megatron," he told the human.

"Shut up, I'm not changing my mind."


	4. Tales of Uncanny Events Part 1

_Author's Note: Yay, another chapter up. At least, a part of a chapter. I broke this one down into three different parts. Each part will contain a short story about each of the Beast Wars characters that have been introduced so far, and maybe a new one will be introduced at the end *wink wink*_

_I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed my story and given me comments. They really help me want to write more. Thanks everyone. I have gotten a lot of comments that said they wanted certain characters put into the story. I just want to inform everyone that I have a lot of this story planned out, and an order in which the characters will enter. And most of the characters people wanted to see may not come in for a while. Until then, enjoy._

Beast Wars Transferred: Tales of Uncanny Events Part one

By Emilou AKA Hatashi Kitty

**Can't Cheat a Cheetor**

Weeks had passed by since the strange event that happened in the upstairs bedroom with the pink floors. While a majority of the humans living in the house had no idea about the phenomenon that surrounded a faded old, night stand that sat next to the window, nor did they know about the strange key that one of the young girls sleeping in that room possessed that could open the drawer in the night stand. And the wondrous thing about that key was that if you used it to lock a toy inside the drawer, it would come to life.

But sometimes, the young girl didn't think so it was so wonderful.

"How many times I have told you, to pick up your junk?"

"Eh, I forget."

"This is disgusting. It's starting to smell," Emilou half-shouted, and wrinkled her nose. "What's all this crap? It smells like you dug it out of the garbage."

"I did," Rattrap replied nonchalantly. "What do you expect? I'm a rat."

"What? Oh, that's gross," Emilou gagged. "That's it, I've had it with you." She stormed out of the room, slamming the door after her.

The room was suddenly quiet.

"I think you over did it, Rattrap," Cheetor told him, feeling sorry for Emilou.

"Eh, females are all alike. They're pushy and noisy, and they'll try to control your life. You just need to stand up to them, and tell them what for," Rattrap said, and went back to lounging in his plastic house.

"I still don't think that's a good idea," Cheetor said, rubbing his chin. "This is her room, and she is a lot bigger than us. You should listen to her."

"Hey, I didn't clean up for Optimus, what makes you think I'll do the same for her," Rattrap muttered, and sighed. "Besides, she treats us like her babies, even that slaggin' Megatron. She ain't going to do anything to me."

Just as he said that, Emilou came back with a bucket in one hand that smelled strongly of ammonia, and a cloth in the other. She didn't say anything, but grabbed the protesting Rattrap from his house, and dumped him into the bucket.

He splashed around in surprise at being unceremoniously dropped into warm, soapy water, and tried to swim the best he could. Lucky for him, it wasn't that deep, and he was able to touch the bottom.

"Hey, what gives. I ain't no water rat," Rattrap shouted, shaking a fist at the human.

"You're getting a bath. No argument," Emilou told him sternly, and started scrubbing him all over with the cloth. "You've been in the garbage, and that's just gross. If you wanted something to eat or shiney-things to look at, I can get you that. Honestly, I don't know why you guys eat; you're robots. Toy robots."

Rattrap tried to retaliate with words, but was given little chance of that. Finally the human was satisfied with job, and picked up the soaking wet rat bot before dropping him on a towel.

"Dry yourself off. I'm going to disinfect your domicile."

Rattrap quickly started to use the dry cloth to shine himself up, worried that he might rust. "Don't you ever do that to me again," he shouted up at the human.

"Then don't dirty up my room, okay? It's bad enough that Chiera's messy, I don't need it from two of you," Emilou ranted on as she attacked the dollhouse with the ammonia soaked cloth.

"I don't dig through the trash," Chiera protested, not wanted to be lumped together with Rattrap.

"A credit to you," Emilou grumbled with sarcasm. "I don't want any disease-carrying item ever kept up here, and I swear, Rattrap, if I get sick because of you, I. . ."

". . . You'll do what?" Rattrap countered, sticking out his tiny chest. "I'm a collectable. You wouldn't dare do anything."

"Listen to me, you little rodent," Emilou shouted at the bot, sticking her head close to the rat. "Nothing is more important than my health, especially with finals being so close. If you think I wouldn't hesitate to step on your feeble body just because I'm too cheap to cough up ten bucks to replace you, you are sorely mistaken. Understand me?"

Rattrap, now cowed, nodded. When Emilou's rage was no longer on him, he hastened to dry himself so he could retreat somewhere else.

Optimus shook his head from his place on the night stand, a book in front of him that he was reading until the argument had started up. He had worried that this would happen. With Rattrap around, arguments were indubitably going to start, but they kept escalating as the days went by. He could only hope that the two will find some middle ground eventually.

"I had better not miss the new episode today," Emilou muttered, scrubbing as hard as she could. "It starts in two minutes."

The five transformers paused in what they were doing, and didn't move as if they were frightened. Eventually they adjusted to the idea that they were only small toys brought to life, but the thought that Emilou could watch a new part of their lives on the TV, stuff that even they hadn't experienced, still rattled them a bit. Emilou had invited them to watch the show every week, and they adamantly refused.

But week after week, one felt his curiosity slowly give in to see the show just once. He had been the first to watch a movie with Emilou, and so he was curios to see what he looked like on the screen.

"Hey, can I watch with you this week?" Cheetor asked, folding his arms behind him like a timid child.

Emilou continued to clean. "Are you sure? You're not going to freak out or anything?"

"No, I really want to watch," Cheetor insisted.

Emilou smiled. "Okay. Let's go down now. But you have to be quiet. My mom and dad could come in at any time."

She put down her rag, picked up Cheetor and went down stairs. She turned on the TV, found the right channel, and sat down on the couch with Cheetor in her lap.

The little robot fidgeted nervously through the opening theme song. He didn't know what to think about watching his teammates and himself on the screen, doing things he remembered doing. Namely there was a quick scene of when he changed into a transmetal. But he told himself that this was a safe place, and that nothing would happen to him. In fact, he remember Emilou telling him that Beast Wars was a show watched by children. Nothing bad would come of it.

The episode title appeared on screen along with the opening scene. It was called "Code of Hero."

After a little ways into the episode, Cheetor wondered if it was just going to be about Dinobot. Sure, he didn't mind the reptile, and sometimes he missed him. He was a good dampener between Rattrap and the rest of the team. He was a hard worker and a good fighter. Cheetor was glad he was on their side. But there was something deeper and wiser that Cheetor always suspected Dinobot had. Something that went beyond his original Predacon programming. And the more Cheetor watched the episode, the more he admired Dinobot. He indeed have integrity. He was self-sacrificing for a good cause, and it proved he did have a spark. Enough so that he would even. . . .

"Oh my Primus!" Cheetor shouted horrified. "Did he just die?!"

Emilou sniffed sadly, tears attempting to break away from her eyes. "Yes, he did. That brave, brave bot."

"But he died!" Cheetor repeated in unbelief that they would show such gore and violence on a children's show.

"Shhh. It's still going," Emilou hushed him, staring at the TV.

Cheetor felt vulnerable, and oil felt like it was going to leak out of his optics. Then he heard Optimus Primal's last words to Dinobot. "Whaaaaaaa! Optimuuuuuuuuuuuuuss!" he cried out, jumped off the couch and started running. He ran across the room, up the stairs the best he could and back into Emilou's room.

It took a long time for him to run the entire way, as small as he was, and Emilou arrived there at about the same time he did after finishing the show.

The other Maximals lifted their heads as they heard their young comrade enter, still wailing.

"What's the matter now?" Rattrap asked after he had cautiously returned to his now clean house.

"Optimus!" Cheetor cried, and ran to his leader who grabbed him by his shoulders.

"Cheetor, what's wrong?" Optimus asked worried.

"It's Dinobot. He died," Cheetor sobbed, and rubbed his optics.

Rattrap's face fell, and he didn't seem like himself. "Dinobot? Where? Those stinkin' Preds. Who did it?"

"It happened on TV," Emilou explained as she looked down at Cheetor with the same worry as Optimus.

"He died in the episode?" Rattrap asked. "What kind of sick human wrote that?"

"Hey, it wasn't me," Emilou defended. "I didn't know it would happen, or I wouldn't have let him see it."

"I was afraid this would happen," Optimus said as he patted Cheetor on the back.

Rattrap turned to his leader. "About Dinobot dying? How could you?"

"No, not exactly," Optimus sighed. "We were fighting a war. I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd have casualties. We lost Tigatron and Airazor to that alien device, but we couldn't be sure that they're lost forever. I had a feeling that this TV show that Emilou watches would show my greatest fear."

"That Dinobot would die?" Cheetor asked looking up at Optimus with huge optics.

"No, I didn't know that Dinobot would be the one. I hope it would be no one, but it's not surprising since we were in a war," Optimus said.

"You didn't cry this much when you thought Optimus died," Emilou told Cheetor.

Optimus looked a little disturbed, and Cheetor didn't meet his gaze.

"But Dinobot's death was just so sad. He worked so hard to fight against the Predacons," Cheetor said, rubbing his eyes. "I don't see how anyone could just watch it."

"I want to watch it," a deep voice shouted from across the room.

Emilou threw some dirty laundry at Megatron. "You hush up."

"Oh please," Rattrap muttered at Cheetor's crying. "At least his corpse ain't stinkin' up the place."

"But you are, and you aren't even dead," Emilou protested. "It still stinks in here. What else do you have around here? Where is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rattrap said nonchalantly, and returned to being lazy.

Emilou started rooting through junk in the corner and under her bed. "You should just give it up, you big stink; I'll find it and then you'll be in trouble."

"I'd love to see you try, you gigantic clean freak," Rattrap yelled back.

"Do you want to go back in the bucket?"

"Whaaaaaaa," Cheetor started to cry again. "Dinobot used to argue with Rattrap like that," he sniffled.

"Oh for bootin' up cold," Rattrap muttered.

"I don't see what the big deal is. It was just a show. It didn't happen. I bet if I bought a Dinobot toy, he'd come to life if I put him in the night stand," Emilou said as she continued to rummage through her stuff.

Cheetor seemed to brighten up after that. "Really? You think so?" he asked in wonder. "Well, could you?"

"Well, I can't right now," Emilou told him. "But if I ever see a Dinobot toy at the store, I promise I'll buy him."

"Yay," Cheetor cheered, and his tears disappeared. He hugged the giant girl's leg and then ran off to do something else.

Emilou didn't have the heart to tell him that Dinobot toys hadn't been in stores since the first season, and the only way to get him was through ebay.

Regardless of Emilou's reassurance, Cheetor had a dream that night. He dreamed that Emilou was watching as each of the Maximals died, one by one. Even as Cheetor shouted for her to help, all she would do was sit and eat popcorn.

**The Buzz at School**

Emilou walked off the school bus in a daze. The hour long trip and the early morning had made her listless and dull, and the thought of starting another mediocre day at school didn't help. First she went to her locker, which was part of her daily routine, and put away her coat and some of her books. But as she reached into her bag, her fingers felt something warm and moving. It didn't feel normal; she screamed and dropped her bag.

"Ouch. Bookz hit Wazzpinator," a muffled voice said within her bag.

Emilou looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed a voice coming from her bag. The school was still very sparse on students, but she still received a few strange looks for the scream. She ignored the looks, and picked up the bag quickly.

"Waspinator? What are you doing here?" she hissed into her bag.

"Emibot complainz of school. Wazzpinator comez to see why school so bad," he said and flew up to the human's face.

Emilou grabbed the metal body and pushed it into her locker. "You shouldn't have done that. No, bad Waspinator. Bad wasp," she said and shook a finger at the small robot.

The insect bowed his head. "Wazpinator iz sorry."

Emilou still looked mad, but didn't know what to do about it. Part of her was touched that he had snuck into school with her. But she had to be mad more out of concern than that was the emotion she was feeling. And besides the small tongue lashing she gave him, she didn't know what else she could do.

"Hey, Emilou. What 'cha got there?" a female voice asked, and Emilou could feel a body behind her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, and slammed the locked closed. Then she smiled. "My reaction seems totally suspicious, huh?" She laughed as if it was a joke

"No, not at all," the girl said with a laugh. "Did you finish your homework? Cause I had trouble with the last question."

"No, I didn't. I was going to finish it up in the library before school," Emilou said. "We can work together. I'll met you there." Emilou waited until the girl was gone, before she turned back to her locker. "Stay here, Waspinator. And don't make any noise. I'll be back after third period."

"Whenz that?"

"In a couple of hours. Now hush."

Waspinator was familiar with this order. He had to be quiet whenever the human named "Mom" or "Dad" was nearby, and whenever Emilou had to go to sleep. But usually he only had to hold still for a few minutes, or shut down during the night, which he contemplated on doing. Staying still for a few hours seemed beyond his limits. His curious little wasp brain wanted to know what was going on.

Soon he was flying up to the small horizontal openings in front of him, and looked out of the metal box. He was in awe to see so many humans.

"Ooooooooohh. So many Emibotz. Bzzzz," he muttered quietly.

But after a while, there was a loud ring, and the humans started to dissipated, until there were no more. There was another ring, and then silence. Waspinator watched for a while, hoping that something else would happen, but grew board and went back to the shelf. He looked at the textbook on the shelf, leafing through it the best he could. He didn't have the intellect nor the attention span to read the chemistry book, but there were some pictures he could look at.

Waspinator kept hearing a bell ring every once in a while, and soon after one of the rings, Emilou came back. She slowly opened the locker, and stuck her face inside. Knowing she looked like an idiot by doing so, she tried to whisper as soft as she could.

"Waspinator, where are you?"

Waspinator buzzed softly and crawled over the book into the light.

"Emibot take Wazpinator home now?" he asked hopefully. He know knew why Emilou didn't like to go to school. It was boring.

"I'm sorry, Waspinator. But I still have four more periods and lunch. School isn't even half-way over," she whispered to him.

"But Wazpinator wantz to go home," he whined.

"So do I. And that's what school is. It's a place where you can't go home until they say so," Emilou told him harshly.

"Wazpinator hatez school."

"Join the club. I'll check up on you after lunch. Bye."

Once again, Waspinator was in the dark. But after a while, he realized it wasn't as dark as before. The locker door wasn't closed all the way. Emilou's jacket prevented it from shutting. Slowly, Waspinator flew to the metal door, and pushed on it. It swung open easily.

And he froze.

The school was a lot bigger than he thought it would be. The ceilings were very high, the lights were bright, and the halls seemed to continue on for miles. He was so stunned by the immenseness of the building, that he flew backwards and closed the locker.

He buzzed in a panic, trying to pry the door open with his thin insect legs. When that didn't help, he flew in a circle while trembling, muttering to himself. In situations like this, it was hard for him to think for himself. The only thing he could think of doing was getting out of sight. He flew up as high as he could, and landed on top of one of the ceiling lights. There wasn't much room, just a few inches of ledge, and a few inches for head room, but it was long enough. From there, he decided to wait until after this "lunch" for Emilou to return to her locker. He didn't know when that would be, so he readied himself for another few hours of watching. Which was more interesting where he was than in the locker. Every once in a while, people would come by, some even bigger than Emilou. They were all different shapes and colors; some would even stop nearby and have a conversation. Most of the time, Waspinator didn't know what they were talking about, but it was enough to entertain him.

One person, a female with grey hair, passed underneath him, then a male human came running up to her calling out "Teacher!"

Waspinator remembered this word. Emilou often said mean things about "teachers". From what Waspinator could tell, these "teachers" were like guards that kept the other humans in line and made them do homework. Emilou had often showed and explained to him what homework was, but he still had no idea why a teacher would make humans do it.

But whether he understood any of this or not, he knew that Emilou didn't like teachers, and Emilou was his leader. Without thinking about it much, he decided to take action. He followed the teacher slowly, and waited until she was alone. Then he dove down at her, buzzing wildly.

The teacher heard the buzzing noise, and cringed at the thought of a bee coming near her. However, as she turned around to see where the insect was, she screamed at the size of the buzzing bug, not to mention the strange coloring. With a speed not usual for her age, she sprinted down the hall, her lungs belting out as loud as she could with the large wasp still coming at her.

For once in his life, Waspinator found something that didn't fight back. He giggled and chuckled, his old, evil Predacon instincts kicking in. But after a while, he saw the teacher running toward more humans. He stopped chasing the teacher, and once again hid in one of the lights. He stayed quiet, listening to the teacher still screaming hysterical.

"Hee hee hee. Emibot will be pleazed," he said to himself, rubbing his little insects legs together. He sat there, soaking in victory, for a long time. It took him a while for him to realize that he didn't know where Emilou's locker was or how to find his leader. "Wazpinator in trouble," he buzzed to himself sadly.

That's when another bell rang. When the little insect robot looked down, the halls were filling once again with many humans. Waspinator brightened up a bit, hoping to find his leader among them. But there were so many of them, and he couldn't get a good look at them from above. It seemed impossible for him to find Emilou.

At the same time, Emilou was going through the halls, trying her best to get to her locker through the large crowds. She had felt bad for yelling at Waspinator before, and thought she would go check on him earlier than she told him she would. She made it to her locker, and opened it.

"Waspinator. How are you doing?" she asked. When she didn't get a reply, Emilou searched through her stuff, thinking he may have just fallen into sleep mode. But there was no sign of him. "Waspinator," she called out louder, fear spreading through her body. She checked the whole locker again, and found nothing. Eyes filled with worry, she looked around outside the metal box, hoping that he just fell out or was nearby. But with so many other students around, it was hard for her to see around.

She thought that it was possible that he had gotten out, wandered off and became lost. He was naturally curious if not bright, an easy combination in the equation of getting lost. At this thought, she slammed her locker door shut, and braved through the crowd once more.

But how would she go looking for him. It would be silly of her to run around the school shouting, "Waspinator!" at the top of her lungs. She continued to wade through the bodies until they slowly thinned out as everyone either went to the cafeteria or went off campus for lunch. But Emilou continued through the halls, seeking for any places where a fist sized wasp would hide, every once in a while, calling out to the Predacon as loud as she dared.

It wasn't long into the lunch hour when she heard the rumor. It had spread quicker than celebrity gossip, and the students were joking and laughing about it. Emilou was passing by a couple of Freshmen retelling the story when she over heard it.

"I was in her class when she came back. She said it was as big as a bird, and looked really strange. It was black with huge red eyes and green wings. It chased her all the way to the gym," the Freshman narrated.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Emilou casually strode past them, and headed for the gym. It was on the opposite side of the school from her locker. If it was Waspinator, then she hoped he would still be nearby, and not wandered further or even outside. Then she'd never find him.

Feeling quite gloomy and useless, Waspinator hung his head, his little insect brain whirling around for any answer to his problem. But he wasn't sure what he could do. There was no way he could find Emilou in all those humans. And something in his sensors told him to fly around with so many people around would be bad. But what else could he do?

"Waspinator!"

It was a hushed voice, like a loud whisper. Waspinator's antannaes came up when he heard his name, and he looked down. He looked down, and saw the back of Emilou's head passing by him.

"Emibot!" he called out, and flew to her.

Emilou turned around just in time to have Waspinator ram into her face, knocking her down to the ground.

"Oof, ow," she moaned from her backside. She pulled the robot from her sore face, and rubbed it.

"Emibot found Wazpinator," the Predacon shouted gleefully from Emilou's grip on his wings.

"Yes you did," Emilou muttered, and set Waspinator on her stomach. "Are you okay?"

"Wazpinator is functioning," he stated, his head cocked to one side.

"Good.

"Iz Emibot functioning?"

Emilou chuckled. "Yes, Emibot is functioning." Emilou picked herself up, careful not to drop Waspinator.

"Wazpinator iz sorry for leaving Emibot's locker," Waspinator apologized. "Wazpinator didn't want to get lost."

"Well, I'm glad your okay," Emilou said, cupping Waspinator in her hands. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Then they heard two rings. They weren't the rings like before, but these were softer and shorter. Then a voice spoke throughout the halls.

"Attention students. This is an important announcement. Due to a. . .ahem. . .number of complaints, it has been determined that there is a slight infestation. The following procedures will take place. . ."

*******

The door to the bedroom opened up, and Emilou walked in.

Optimus Prime looked up from the book he was reading, and looked at the clock.

"You're home early," he observed.

"Don't get mad," Rattrap shouted from the floor as he waved his arms. "I swear, I didn't do anything to him, but Waspinator's gone."

"He's been with me all day," Emilou told him, and opened up her bag to let him out. Waspinator flew out, circled around Emilou's head, and then landed on a shelf of her book case. "He's the reason I'm home early."

"You went to school?" Cheetor asked Waspinator with wide optics. "Whoah. Ultra gear. What was it like?"

"It'z boring," Waspinator told Cheetor. "Except when Wazpinator chased bad teacher."

"You did what?" Optimus Primal asked, looking up at Waspinator with an odd look.

"That also has to do with why I'm home early," Emilou explained. "Waspinator, for some reason, thinks that teachers were really really bad."

"I wonder how that happened?" Optimus sarcasically said.

"Anyway," Emilou ignored the small robot ape. "He chased my English teacher all over the school, scaring the grammar out of her. She pestered the principle, and they called an exterminator, sending all of the students home at half-day. We don't have school for the rest of the week, thanks to Waspinator."

"Wazpinator did good?" the wasp asked.

"Waspinator did good," Emilou confirmed with a big smile.

Optimus shook his head, but a smile crept onto his face.


	5. Tales of Uncanny Events Part 2

Beast Wars Transferred: Tales of Uncanny Events Part 2

By Emilou AKA Hatashi Kitty

**Prime Example**

"Hey, everyone. Gather around. I'm back from the library," Emilou called out, swinging her book bag from her shoulders before sitting down on the pink carpet.

Cheetor came out first, running with his tiny robot arms in the air. With school and sleep taking up most of her time, Emilou was only able to be around the small figures for only few hours a day. And then the weekends were filled with homework, chores and the occasional get-together with her human friends. During the hours that the robots were alone, Emilou tried to give them something to do to keep them entertained. Out of the robots, Cheetor enjoyed Emilou's company the most, being a social bot.

"Okay, Cheetor's first," Emilou said, and pulled out a pair of books from her bag. "Another Garfield book, and a novel that I think you'll like. It took me forever to reserve it for you."

Cheetor climbed up on the cover of the book and read the title. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's stone. That sounds ultra gear!"

Emilou rooted around in her bag. "And for Optimus, here's a couple of books on plants. Our library is a small, so there wasn't much to choose from," she told him, and set the books on the nightstand where he liked to be.

Optimus Primal told Emilou of his gratitude. During their time in their dimension, he had been very interested in the flora of the world. Organics were so interesting. They were self-repairing unless given serious damage. They were very soft and fragile compared to Cybertronians, yet they continued to thrive and live. Evolution was a strange and wondrous thing.

"And I have a packet of crossword puzzles that I printed from the Internet for a certain someone. . ."Emilou trailed off, waving the papers around.

"Excellent," a deep voice rumbled, and the purple T-rex came stalking out from underneath Emilou's bed. During his time in the pink-carpeted room, Megatron somehow resigned himself to his fate, letting himself be placated as long as he had enough crossword puzzles.

"And for Waspinator, Chiera picked out some picture books for you," Emilou said, pointing to her sister who had a stack of the items near her bed. "And last of all, for Rattrap. . ."

"Eh, I told ya', I don't need no stinkin' books," Rattrap grumbled from the top of his doll house. "They ain't nothin' but a waste of time."

"Come on, Rattrap. Books aren't that bad. Optimus reads a ton of books, and look how smart he is," Emilou said, pointing at the Maximal leader.

"Not your strongest argument," Megatron muttered from where he sat at the sheets of crossword puzzles with a pencil in his claws.

Emilou tapped him on the head for discipline. "It's good for you Rattrap. It exercises your brain."

"No, thanks. I'll pass," Rattrap said, and stretched as he lounged around his house.

"Are you sure? I got you a really great book," Emilou said, and swung the book in front of his optics so he could read the title. "It's got rats in it."

Rattrap's optics rolled at the title "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nim," but looked closely at the fierce looking rodents that crawled around the binding.

"Well, in case you change your mind, it'll be right here," Emilou said, and leaned it against one of the doll house's walls.

Waspinator buzzed to Emilou, doing his best to carry a picture book to her. "Emibot read to Wazpinator?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, Waspy, but I have homework to do. Maybe later," Emilou said, and patted the bug's head.

"That meanz no," Waspinator sighed, and flew the book back.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Waspy. I'll try to find time to spend with you," Emilou told him with a sad face. "Just you wait. When summer comes around, we'll have all week to play, not just the weekends. And then maybe I can take you guys outside sometimes," she said, hoping that would keep her in Waspinator's good graces.

But the bug bot just buzzed away; he'd heard that before too.

Emilou felt bad, but her homework came first. If she slacked on her studies, she'd get chewed out by her teachers and her parents when they saw her grades going down.

"You understand my pain, don't you Primal?" Emilou asked, looking for sympathy from the Maximal leader. She sat on her bed, her math book opened on her lap with a notebook.

Optimus nodded. "It is hard to put duty before pleasure. But you're doing the right thing," he told her with a smile.

Emilou felt better after, and went to work on the problems in her book. After a few minutes of scribbling, erasing and more scribbling and erasing, she grumbled to herself. Math was her worst subject. The longer she was in the class, the less she understood. Even though she loathed the subject, she was still taking the advanced classes that the college nearby offered. It was halfway through the year that she felt it was a mistake to take Math 1010 as only a Sophmore in high school.

"Rrrr, I hate this stuff. Frickin' symbols and functions and crap. It can all just die," she half-yelled in frustration and pushed away her book.

Feeling pity on the human since she was working so hard on her work, Optimus Primal jumped down from the night stand, and started to take a look at the book. The equations typed on the paper were well known to him; in fact, it was basic math for him. Something that he could easily calculate.

"What's the problem? These are simple," he told her, trying to be helpful.

"Yeah, when you have a calculator in your brain," Emilou shot at him. "But I don't."

"Well, you have the right answer," Optimus noticed looking at her scribbles.

"Yeah, 'cause they're in the back of the book," Emilou said impertinently. "But I have to show my work."

Optimus scanned the few pages of the capture, his processor taking in the information quickly. "I see. Well, here's where you went wrong. You forgot a step here," Optimus explained, taking the pencil up and doing the problem for you. "See?"

Emilou did see, but not the problem. "It's too hard. Do it for me, Primal."

Optics widened as the words were processed. "What? No, that's not right."

"C'mon, Optimus. I just need to pass. A C+ at least, and then I won't have to do any more math," Emilou pleaded.

"No, that's cheating. I can't do that."

"Just this once. After this chapter, we'll be out of proofs and starting something else."

"Absolutely no. I'll tutor, but I will not do your homework."

Emilou realized that the Maximal wouldn't budge. At least not without some harder pressure.

"As the leader of the Predacons, I command that you must do my homework," she said in a demanding voice.

Optimus gave her a look as if she were crazy.

"I'm not. . ."

"What do my rules say?" Emilou interrupted, pointing at the sheet of paper on her wall.

Optimus knew that rule number one was that Emilou was the Predacon Queen and her rule was law. "But those are the Predacon rules. I'm not a Predacon," he argued calmly.

Emilou was left wordless for a few seconds before she retorted. "Well, as long as you live under my roof, you will follow my rules."

Optimus pursed his lips. "I won't do it. You can't make me," he said with crossed arms.

"After all that I do for you. . .Then you give me no choice," Emilou said with a serious look, and snapped her fingers. At once, Waspinator was closeby. "Waspinator, get him."

Unquestioningly, Waspinator launched at the Maximal even though Optimus had the advantage of not being in Beast Mode.

Old battle instincts kicked in, and Primal was on his feet and half-climbing, half-falling down the bed. He landed with a grunt, and ran toward Rattrap's house, a buzzing noise approaching quickly.

Emilou bent over the bed, and look underneath. "Megatron, go get 'em."

"Why?" the T-rex asked with a board look. And then he repeated the one line that Emilou hated the most, since Chiera said it dozens of times. "You aren't the boss of me, yes."

"Because that's what you do. You're a bad guy," Emilou told him. "And if you get him to do my homework, I'll transform you for one day."

For a minute, Megatron wondered if his senses had become too dull or he was going crazy, because Emilou's argument sounded reasonable. Whither it was that or he had been itching to be in robot mode for so long, he decided to do as she said.

With a speed that impressed Emilou, Megatron came thundering out into the light, making his way to Optimus.

The Maximal leader was hindered by Waspinator. The bug bot couldn't do much, but push him down and try to pick the robot up. But it was enough for the ex-Predacon leader to catch up. He lept and landed on Primal's back, his weight bringing the orange-brown bot down.

"Concede your defeat, Maximal scum. Do the homework!" Megatron growled in his enemy's audio.

"Never," Optimus grunted, trying to get at least to his knees.

At that point, Cheetor looked up from Harry Potter, all noise from outside the book ignored until the loud ruckus. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, taking in the scene. "Oh no." He ran to Rattrap's house, shouting. "Rattrap. We gotta go help Optimus. He's being attacked by Megatron."

"What?" Rattrap shouted, jumping up from his lounging. He looked across the floor to see Megatron and Primal in a struggle. He couldn't really believe that this was happening. However, he didn't panic until he saw Emilou sitting calmly on her bed. Why wasn't she helping Optimus? "I'm comin', Cheetor," he told his comrade, running down the stairs. _What the heck is going on now? What's that girl thinkin'?_

Cheetor was the first on the scene, and tackled Megatron as hard as he could. But the T-Rex was too heavy and was prepared for the attack. He only snapped at Cheetor, who had to dodge away before the jaws could get him. He tried to get at Megatron from the other side, only to be swatted away by the Predacon's tale.

Rattrap, while Cheetor was distracting Megatron, snuck up from a different direction and crawled to Optimus Primal. "Don't worry, boss monkey. We'll get you out of here," he whispered to his leader. But before he could be any use, Waspinator landed on his back. He flipped over to fight the Predacon.

"Are ya slaggin' nuts? What are ya doin', ya creepy bug?" Rattrap shouted as he pushed Waspinator's head into the carpet.

"Wazpinator doing what Emibot orderz," Waspinator replied.

"And why would Emilou tell you to attack Optimus?" Rattrap argued.

"Optimuz muzt do Emibot'z homework."

Rattrap stopped as his logic circuits sorted through the sentence. "What! Homework?" he shouted dumbfounded.

Cheetor stopped fighting Megatron as well, and it grew too quiet for a fight.

The silence was broken by the Maximal leader. "No! I won't do it!" he declared.

"Oh, that's it," Rattrap said, getting up and walking away. "I'm done."

Cheetor watched the smaller bot leave. "Huh? But what about big bot?"

"He's on his own. No way I'm getting my chrome kicked over homework," Rattrap grumbled.

Rattrap's logic, for once, also made sense to Cheetor, and he backed away.

Free from any hindrance, Megatron clamped Primal's leg in his jaws and dragged him back to Emilou as the Maximal shouted, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Minutes later, the ex-Predacon leader was holding a sharpened pencil to the Maximal leader's back, ready to stab if Optimus stopped working on Emilou's homework. The T-Rex looked happier than any other time since he arrived in this world. The human girl was now eating snacks and reading a picture book to Waspinator and Cheira while eying her own novel to start later.

"Well, this is just Prime," Optimus mumbled to himself.

"No talking. More work," Megatron growled happily and poked Optimus in his head.

* * *

**Megatron's Day**

"No, you can't do it."

"But a deal is a deal."

"You've just made a deal with the devil."

"Stay out of this, Primal. Yesssss."

"What are you, my shoulder angel?" Emilou said, and smoothed out the transforming instructions for Megatron. "Besides, it's one Saturday. What can he do in one day?"

"Famous last words," Optimus said in a grumpy voice. He still hadn't forgiven Emilou for forcing him to do her homework.

"I'll be around, so he can't do anything," Emilou told the Maximals. "Look, he's seven inches tall and has no weapons. And if he does something bad, his crossword privileges are revoked for a week." This last sentence was said in a harsh tone, directed to the purple T-Rex.

"Of course. I'll be on my best behavior, yes," Megatron said smoothly, his tongue coated with honey.

Emilou eyed him suspiciously, but then shrugged. "It'll be alright guys. I promise. You don't even need to get involved if you want to. You can just relax and ignore him. As Queen of the Predacons, he's my responsibility."

"That sold me," Rattrap said, and jumped off the bed. "I'll be doing just that. Good luck."

Emilou cracked her knuckles. "Okay, are you ready?" she asked Megatron.

"Yessss," Megatron said in a deep voice, rubbing his tiny claws together.

Emilou picked him up and started the process of transforming him.

"Oh, your hands are cold. Wait, I don't think I'm ready after all. Is that really suppose to go there? No, I'm pretty sure it doesn't."

"Who has the instructions?" Emilou asked, looking down at the half-transformed mass. "I do. Now hush up."

After a few minutes, she set the newly transformed Megatron down on the bed.

"How's that? Everything feeling as it should?" Emilou asked, and poked Megatron's chest.

Megatron waved the finger away. "Yes, it appears so. Now, if you excuse me, I have things to conquer."

"What was that?" Emilou asked in a humorless voice.

"It's a figure of speech, yes," Megatron coughed, and jumped off the bed.

Emilou looked at Optimus Primal, who was pointing at Megatron with both hands, his face saying, "Really?"

"Oh, it'll be fine. Trust me," Emilou said and turned to her book without a care.

Megatron strolled down the pink carpet, feeling like a new Predacon. It felt so good to be back in his root mode. To actually be able to bend down and pick things up, and move at the waist. Not to mention, not having to worry about a tail. He stretched, and then ran the length of the room. Yes, this was the real him.

But what to do with the time in his robot mode? The only thing he enjoyed while being in Emilou's room was doing crossword puzzles. Of course that would be a waste of time, since he could do that while in beast mode. Although it would make holding the pencil a lot easier. No, no crossword puzzles today.

The only other thing he enjoyed was scheming. And that was one thing he'd definitely get in trouble for. And then he'd have a week without crossword puzzles to look forward to.

Megatron shook his head, and berated himself. He was the great Megatron. He would not be pushed around by a mere human. He should not balk at the weak threat of being "grounded". No, he was strong and he was evil. This world of doll houses and mixed allegiances may have lulled him into a passive life for a while, but Megatron would always be Megatron.

But the girl was a problem. If only she wasn't here.

"EMILOU! Get down here!"

"Coming mom!" Emilou shouted back. She lay in bed for a few more minutes, finding a good spot in her book before setting it down. "I'll be back in a minute guys. Behave."

Megatron sank into the darkness of the bed's underneath. This was perfect. Yes.

Optimus and Cheetor had watched Emilou leave the room, feeling a sense of doom rise up their chest plates. If Cheetor still had fur, it would be standing on end right now.

"Okay, Cheetor. It looks like it's up to you and me to make sure Megatron isn't up to his old tricks," Primal said in an irritated tone.

"Well, between the two of us, and no weapons, that shouldn't be too hard," Cheetor said, trying to be optimistic.

However, the two turned around expecting to see the transmetal Predacon, instead they found a lonely crossword puzzle with only two boxes filled in for 12 down: one syllable for laughter, which was "HA".

"That's just Prime," Optimus muttered in frustration. "Come on. We might as well look for him. This might take a while." He led the way toward Emilou's bed to search underneath it. That was Megatron's favorite spot, so hopefully they'll get lucky.

"A while indeed, Optimus Primal," Megatron growled with a wide smile. He had planned his escape well. While the two Maximal fools searched under the bed, he slowly made his way to the closet under a pile of clothes. He discarded his disguise, and shut the closet door behind him. Now, with only his glowing red eyes as light he readied his plan.

But first he needed some troops. Yes, some loyal servants that would be willing to do his bidding. But where could he get those troops. Waspinator had betrayed him, and he had no way of finding his fellow Predacons to bring them to life in that accursed nightstand.

But why should the nightstand be limited to Predacons and Maximals; there was no reason that anything else placed into the wooden drawer and locked in with the brass key wouldn't come to life. He could use anything to build his army.

Looking around, he was not pleased with his options. Dolls. Stuffed toys. Plastic figurines. All of them small and weak. Most were humanoid, and would be no used to him. What he needed was something more advanced, something that wasn't made of this cheap plastic.

Megatron moved deeper into the closet, pushing through an assorted batch of plush animals to reach the deepest, darkest corner that only his electronic optics could see what lay beyond the piles of Chiera's toys.

His optics opened wider at what he had scanned.

The things had some plastic inside them, but there were also mechanical parts, joints and electrical units. These things had a program, and were far more advanced than any other toys he'd seen in this strange world.

They would be perfect for starting an army.

Yesssssssss.

* * *

Optimus Primal organized the search. He sent Cheetor to look under Emilou's bed. And with much persuasions (mainly threats) he made Rattrap go under Chiera's bed while he sent Waspinator up to the ceiling to keep high eye out for the Predacon. As for him, he gave himself the most tedious and unpleasant job of looking under every pile of clothing and junk on the floor. Megatron could be under any of them, just biding his time to make his attack.

It didn't take the four long to collect together to report.

"No sign of him bigbot."

"Wazpinator not see."

"Nada."

"That's just Prime. It means he was able to leave the room without our knowledge. We'll have to go after him."

"How are we going to do that, boss monkey? We're just four little bots and that's a big house," Rattrap complained.

"And it's not like we can track him down. This carpet doesn't leave a trace," Cheetor added.

"I know that, but it's our only choice," Optimus told his troops. "But we can't let Megatron run amok."

"What about Emibot?" Waspinator chimed in.

"Yeah, we need to tell her what's going on," Cheetor said.

"She can cover more ground," Optimus agreed. "Waspinator, you go find her and tell her what's going on. We'll search on foot."

Waspinator accepted Optimus's order and flew out.

"Come on, Maximals. Let's go."

"Heh, when I get my hands on the stinkin' saurian, I'm going to tear him apart, no matter what Emilou says about her 'precious toy collection'," Rattrap muttered.

As soon as the Maximals left, the closet door slowly creaked open.

"Yeeeeessssssss."

* * *

It didn't take long for the Maximals to return back to the room. The human entity they knew as "Mom" was vacuuming, and they had retreated to the only place of safety.

"Well, any more bright ideas, Optimus Primal?" Rattrap asked, not sparing on the sarcasm when pronouncing his leader's name.

Primal was silent for a while, always contemplating before answering or making a decision. Then he looked at the two Maximals. "I have a feeling that Megatron didn't leave this room. He wouldn't have gotten past that vacuum." Primal rubbed his chin. "Something's not right here. Megatron wouldn't stay unless there was something he wanted. What could he gain?"

"Ah, Optimus. You know me all too well," a polite voice called from above.

The Maximals looked up to see the purple transformer standing on top of the night stand.

"What's your game, Megatron? What are you up to?" Optimus shouted, stepping closer.

Megatron grinned. "I'll give you one guess." Then he held up the key to the night stand.

Optimus opened his optics very wide. "No Megatron." He started to run for the night stand.

"Oh yesss." Megatron fell to his stomach and pushed himself the furthest he could off the nightstand edge and shoved the key into the keyhole. Then he turned it.

All the transformers could feel something in the air change, like a serge after an explosion. But it felt very. . .organic.

"What have you done, Megatron?" Optimus said horrified.

"I have made myself an army. One that will obey me, and defeat you," Megatron chuckled. He twisted the key once more, and pulled it out, letting it fall to the pink carpet. Then, slowly, he opened the drawer up.

From the darkness, the Maximals could something moving in the drawer. Something heavy. Or more than one of them.

The Maximals, now apprehensive, took a step back.

"Arise. Arise, my minions," Megatron laughed, lifting his arms above his head.

There was no sound.

Megatron shifted in his steps, but then tried again. "Arise my creations. I have brought life to you. Join me, and we will rule."

The drawer was silent.

Megatron gave a growl of frustration.

"Give it up, Megatron. You're little plan didn't work."

Megatron turned around, surprised to see the three Maximals behind him.

"No, I will not be defeat. . . ."

"What the heck are those things?" Rattrap cried out as he looked into the drawer. "They're hideous."

"Ah, I think they're kind of cute," Cheetor said, and bent down. "Hi little guys. Hello? Looks like their duds."

"Great army, Mega-mouth. Would you like to add a couple of rocks?" Rattrap laughed.

"You might as well give up, Megatron. You've lost. Emilou will be up here soon, and she won't be too happy about this," Optimus Primal said, closing in on his enemy.

"No! I won't let that oversized human lock me in that prison again," Megatron growled. Then he took a step back, however he was already on the edge of the nightstand. He lost his balance, and fell off into the drawer.

As his heavy metal body fell into the drawer, Megatron caused the drawer and everything in it to vibrate and bounce slightly. Then everyone heard the voices.

"Wah-loh-kah."

"Boh-bay."

"Boo-do dah big-doo?"

"Lee-koo-wah!"

"What?" Megatron asked in confusion. And then he realized that his plan had worked. His creations are alive. But they spoke some sort of foreign language. He did not consider that the toys of a young child would have a tongue of their own. He quickly stood up with dignity, and addressed his new troops.

"I am Megatron," he said slowly to the four creatures. "I am friend."

"A-tay-kah."

"Yes. Friend," Megatron said, a crafty smile on his face.

"Mmmmm. Friend," the one at the front repeated.

_They're intelligent_, Megatron thought. _But just how intelligent?_

"Yes, I am friend. Megatron. Friend," Megatron nodded his head.

"Friend."

"Friend."

"Friend."

All four of the creatures started repeating the word over and over again.

Megatron, at first, was happy with the creatures' progress. However, when the creatures did not cease in repeating the word, he had second thoughts.

"Shut up!"

The roar was intended to startled the creatures so they'd stop talking, but it did quite the opposite.

"Dah lee-koo koo-wah!"

"A-loh doo!"

"WAH!"

And they continued to chatter in their unknown language.

At that time, Emilou entered the room followed by Waspinator flying just a little above head level.

"Okay, what's this big emergency that I've been called back for? My grandparents came over to visit, and my grandma nearly had a heart attack from seeing Waspinator. I had to convince her that we must be seeing things. Now what's going on? Where's Megatron?"

The three Maximals pointed to the open drawer, and took a step back.

Emilou put her hands on her hips and stepped forward. Then her jaw dropped.

"Despite what the Maximal scums might say, I don't have anything to do with this?" Megatron lied with an innocent smile.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Emilou shouted, her eyes darting around at the creatures. "Those. . .those are. . . How did you find them? I buried them in the deepest, darkest corner of the closet where they never would be found again. And you brought them out, and gave them life?"

For once, Emilou looked absolutely angry, but in a calm way. Her face was cold, and uncaring, and an aura floated around her that even made Megatron feel chilly inside.

"You're in big trouble," her icy voice whispered menacingly as she reached a hand down to grab him.

* * *

"So what are these things?" Cheetor asked, rubbing one of the creatures. It purred soothingly, and closed its big eyes in pleasure.

"They're furbies. They're Chieras, and I should never have given them to her last Christmas," Emilou said as she poked one of the furbies in the belly. It laughed, and chattered in its language.

"So what are furbies?" Optimus Primal asked, taking a good look at one of them.

"They're toys, or at least were. They're programed to talk in their little furby language, but slowly they'll change to English the more you play with them," Emilou said as she read one of the instruction manuals of the furbies.

"That's really advanced. They learn your language," Cheetor said, sounding impressed.

"Not really. If you speak Spanish to them, they'll still speak English eventually. They don't learn, they're just programed to act like they do. And it looks like they have a very limited vocabulary," Emilou told them. "I don't know what they'll be like now that they've been brought to life."

"Do you think they'll actually learn?" Cheetor asked as a furby butted up against him for attention.

"Who knows. I'm still reeling over how Megatron tried to use them as an army," Emilou chuckled. "Not the brightest idea. It's like using children."

"And speaking of Megatron, what are you going to do to him?" Optimus Primal asked, looking at the girl doubtfully. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but I don't think that is enough."

They all turned to look at Megatron, now in beast mode, laying tied up in his basket prison.

"I agree," Emilou said to the Maximal leader. "I hate to do this, Megatron. But you give me no choice. I'm going to have to take one of your legs."

Megatron's optic widened, and he struggled.

As Emilou reached for him, the furbies rushed over to the cage, shouting and crying in stress.

"Wah Ma-ma."

"No-Wah Ma-ma."

"Tee-Koo, Doo-Wah."

Emilou withdrew her hand in confusion. "Are they calling him Mama?" she asked, looking to Optimus Primal.

"Interesting," Primal said, rubbing his chin. "It seems that they imprinted on Megatron since he was the first one they saw when they woke up. That's fascinating."

"That's awful," Emilou said, frowning. "I would never want that, not ever." Then she smiled. "However, that gives me an idea on Megatron's punishment." She lifted the basket-prison up, letting the four furbies in to snuggle around Megatron, purring and chatting continuously. "For your punishment, Megatron, you are hereby given the title of Furby-Mom. You will take care of them twenty-four seven forever and ever. If you refuse, I'll take all your legs and lock you up with the furbies in the closet. May God have mercy on your soul."

"Oh, for bootin' up cold," Rattrap muttered and retreated to his dollhouse.

Megatron starred off into space coldly, confirming how much he hated his new calling and title of mother.

"Are you sure? What about the furbies? Won't they get hurt?" Cheetor asked, looking concerned for the creatures.

"I don't care. As long as I don't have to deal with them, it'll be alright," Emilou told him. "Those things are so frickin' annoying, and if they are smarter than the toy form, then they might even be worse. I believe justice has been served."


End file.
